Operation: Nightingale
by Lady Flick
Summary: Iron Country, a once neutral territory, is believed to be plotting a large-scale war. "For all his years of being away from any semblance of his former life, Sasuke could count on one hand the times he had chased after a woman. One: the rose-haired, wide-eyed Haruno Sakura." AU. SasuSaku.
1. Land of Iron

**author's note:** Let me preface this by addressing the _M_ rating of this fic: yes there is sex and sexual tension and situations, but there _is plot_. And action, for that matter.

**disclaimer:** Pfft yeah right like I own _Naruto_.

* * *

**Operation: Nightingale**

* * *

**i.**

_Land of Iron_

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.

It was no secret that the shinobi world was racked with turmoil. Even Konoha, once an abdominal stronghold, was beginning to crumble. The shortage of shinobi aid was proof of the fact that the Fire Country desperately needed help, and that the villages that supplied such aid were being run ragged. Times were tough, and everyone knew; it was as if the entire Leaf Village was suspended in the air, frozen and waiting to shatter. Wallets were pinched from lack of funds, shops closed down from a lack of customers. For the first time since the last Shinobi War, people remembered the whisperings of rebellion, of invasion, and feared travelling once again.

They were teetering on the edge of what could be the next Great Battle; the possibility was so stark and tangible that the faintest breeze could tip the scales in either direction. The only lead they had was the mere _possibility_ that intelligence had found the source of the rapidly forming army – a man who reigned over Iron Country: Watatsumi Susanoo.

The Land of Iron kept mostly to itself, touting neutrality over all other Countries – its role in previous wars was that of bystander. In fact, when faced with the possibility of taking a side or otherwise forced to take a stand with any particular army, Iron Country always belayed the message that they would not be assuaged, often shaming and sending any request for aid running back home with bad news.

Which was why the fact that the impending doom currently hanging over the Shinobi World could possibly be from the Land of Iron was _such _a ridiculous notion.

But it was also their only lead.

"Not much is known about Susanoo," the Hokage declared, bridging her fingers and eyeing the medic before her. "We don't even know if the rumor is true, but we can't take the chance. It's all we've got, and we need to approach this matter very carefully. If Iron Country got wind that a particular Shinobi Village was snooping around, we would surrender whatever upper-hand we might have." A deep sigh escaped her lips then, and the elder blonde pushed forth a manila envelope across her desk. It was thick with information and a background story and marked with the ANBU seal. "This is your new identity. Read, memorize, and _become_ her. We...don't know how long it will take before you can return home."

The implication was clear: her mission was indefinite.

"Do you accept your mission, Haruno Sakura?"

"Aa."

Once the ANBU left, Tsunade allowed herself to release a breath she had been holding and slumped back in her chair, wondering if she made a mistake sending her Head Medic on such an assignment. But word had it that Iron Country needed a medic to treat an epidemic, and Sakura was the best they had – she would have the most opportunity to infiltrate Susanoo's ranks, afterall.

That didn't make the decision any easier. The Hokage closed her eyes, hoping the lead was not false and that she wasn't putting the life of her greatest apprentice at risk.

**.**

**.**

**Name:** Hatsui Tsukiko

**Age: **28

**Hair: **Brown

**Eyes: **Green

**Village: **Degarashi, Tea Country

**Blood Type: **AB+

Sakura watched the brunette woman peer out from the curtains of her caravan as it bumped across the border and along the winding road into Fire Country. From that small glimpse the medic surmised that her target was a nice young woman, bright, intellectual, but clearly afraid to have crossed into a ninja infested land. It always irked Sakura the way people regarded her kind – they sought their protection and yet declared them despicable for having done dirty work.

The ANBU followed, wondering to herself just what this Hatsui Tsukiko had done in her past to be summoned to the Land of Iron – quite practically across the stretch of their continent. Konoha heard little of the rumors of this young doctor, but her reputation must have preceded her in some aspect. Once again Sakura found herself searching through her mind for anything that might hint at Tsukiko's accomplishments. Nothing came to mind.

Afterall, she only studied about shinobi medics.

She surveyed the doctor for a couple of days, allowing the ride to pass further through Fire Country and picking up mannerisms from her target. Tsukiko kept to herself mostly, interacting very little with the burly man who escorted her from her southern home – Tea Country was the farthest south you could go before reaching the sea. It was on the evening before they finally exited Fire Country's borders that Sakura made her move.

All it took was a crushed herb mixed into her favorite – chamomile – tea and Tsukiko awoke the next morning abandoned in the farming village incredibly far from home.

Sakura sent a message to Tsunade that she didn't dispose of Tsukiko – the Hokage could deal with her however she wished. Perhaps wipe her memory? Kakashi's sharingan would take care of that.

**.**

**.**

The Land of Iron resembled nothing of the other Countries Sakura had ever traversed in her years of experience and apprenticeship. Her assignment file warned her to dress warmly; as the medic studied the gray horizon, flashing with lightning, she couldn't help but wryly note that the suggestion in her scroll was a slight understatement. Snowy mountaintops formed the range before her. Intimidating, jagged shadows peaked into thick, ominous clouds. It seemed that all of Iron Country was beneath a perpetual storm. A harbinger of doom, if she had ever seen one.

"Are you doing alright in there, miss?"

Her still green eyes peered at the man (What was his name, again?) leading the horses before her. He was bundled up in layers, familiar with Iron Country territory. Sakura had very little interaction with him, and, luckily, so had Tsukiko. If he had noticed a change in his passenger's appearance, he failed to notice. Perhaps the simple brown-haired, green-eyed look was enough. He could have never been a shinobi.

"Yes," Sakura answered at last. "Just a bit cold."

The male chuckled, a deep, echoing, warm sound that somehow broke through the distant howling wind. "You'll get used to these storms soon enough," he – Ebisu was his name – assured her, risking a glance back at the woman. Dark eyes peered beneath thick brows, patches of a unruly hair dotting the lower portion of his face. "But the culture, that might take some getting used to."

Before she could respond, he had returned his attention to the narrow cliff-side road, much to Sakura's relief. She pulled the hood of her thin cloak over her foreign dark locks and closed the curtain of her caravan, wondering what might be so shocking about the Land of Iron's culture.

**.**

**.**

The manor loomed, tall and stark against the skyline. Its tiers mimicked the slants and ferocity of lightning bolts that served to illuminate the iron fortress in all its indomitable glory. Sakura's carriage was led inside and the first thing she noted with mild interest were the painted faces of not only the female servants, but of the male, as well. Each face was smeared in white, red paint dotting the middle portion of their lips, leaving the corners to blend into the ivory flesh. Small red dots were drawn beneath each eye, at the tops of cheek bones.

Her caravan door opened and Sakura was greeted by a peculiar looking man donning an over-sized headdress molded and structured to mimic a storm at sea. He, along with the others donning his same headdress, wore no white paint but sported the red. The guest quickly surmised it was to distinguish social standing.

The man said nothing as he offered her his hand. She took it, watching her step as the foot-stirrup below the carriage was coated in snow.

"Miss Hatsui, your journey was bearable, I trust?"

Sakura lifted her eyes to meet the gaze of the mysterious leader of Iron. She smiled a pretty smile, demure and practiced, and nodded. "It was...acceptable."

He donned a robe of what appeared to be the softest fur, all in grays and black. Broad shoulders and a chiseled face – he was the embodiment of iron. "Good," even his voice was like a hammer striking an anvil, "you have traveled far. Please, take an evening to rest. Your handmaidens will escort you to your quarters. Make yourself at home." Susanoo had a way of speaking that singled out one person in a room, as if those glinting golden eyes of his had no interest whatsoever in any other living being. "I will introduce you to my army in the morning, they are in dire need of your aid." With a swish of his thick coat, the man turned to leave –

"Then should we wait?" Sakura's query interrupted his retreat, and he peered over his broad shoulder at the guest. "If they need medical attention, I can't rest easy until I've seen to them," she pressed on. If she was there as a medic, might as well uphold a true medic's beliefs.

Susanoo graced her with a smile so magnanimous it was as if she had offered him the world. "A devotion to your cause. That is something I greatly admire. You may see them," he declared. "Your handmaidens will escort you to their grounds. I have a matter I need to attend to, but tomorrow morning, Miss Hatsui, I shall request your company for breakfast."

A polite enough request, but the order beneath his words was clear and left no room for refusal. Sakura bowed her head in understanding.

The most timid of voices emerged from one of the white-painted staff. "This way, Miss Hatsui-"

"Tsukiko," the false brunette cut in, "No need for formalities."

The young girl (she couldn't have been more than fourteen) turned a terrible beet red reminiscent of a certain Hyuuga, and nodded. "This way...Tsukiko."

Sakura smiled and followed.

While her belongings were sent to her chambers, the servant – she refused to disclose her name, only insisted Sakura refer to her as _Nine_ – led the medic down a wooden staircase that creaked with every step and through a dark tunnel that needed some dire upkeep. The walls dripped with what Sakura hoped was melted snow and not leakage form pipes. The entire floor was submerged in at least an inch if not two of sludge. _Thanks for the warning, Susanoo_, she thought bitterly as she ignored the cool sensation squishing between her toes.

They reached a pass where the air became a biting cold and Sakura's breath rose before her eyes. A large iron door stood before them and Nine lifted a tiny hand and knocked. From high above, a narrow little slit opened, the iron sliding to the side, and a pair of eyes peered down. "Who dares strike the anvil?"

"A humble hammer of Lord Watatsumi."

The massive door opened slowly, allowing the duo entry.

Once inside, Sakura met the General – Mifune, coated in the plated armor of a samurai, horned helmet tucked beneath an arm – and was quickly updated on his warriors' conditions. It started out as a and cold spread into something far worse.

"It's like nothing I've ever seen before," the man admitted, dark gaze studying the men in the sick bay. Cots were laid out, side by side, filled with pale, almost _translucent_ soldiers. Mifune tore his gaze away. "You must help them." An order.

Sakura nodded once and slid a surgical mask over her face before entering the area.

She simply arrived to introduce herself to the men, but they seemed too disoriented to even notice a presence in the room with them. Grabbing Tsukiko's journals, she began taking note of the conditions: pale, shivering, dilated pupils, cool to the touch, catatonic, hair loss...

Moving from cot to cot, Sakura resisted the urge to use her chakra to search into their bodies – Tsukiko was a civilian, which meant civilian measures must be taken. She could only use her chakra when she was certain she was alone, and even then, it was a risk.

If there was a clock in the room, she would have guessed it had been about an hour since she arrived. Sleep weighed down her eyelids and the medic slipped her – _Tsukiko's_ – journal into her bag, moving for the exit. Her hand reached up to remove the mask about her mouth when a dark figure emerged before her.

"You must be the medic. Hatsui, was it?" The man towered above her in all his plated armor glory. Unlike Mifune's helmet, his bore no horns. "Thank you for coming. This is a serious epidemic. But you must be tired, you've been here for four hours." _Four hours! _"We appreciate your help," he was pleasant enough, but there was a lack of sincerity in his words, as if he was simply reading them off a scroll. "This fortress can be confusing. Is a handmaid here with you?" He asked as he removed his helmet – pale features, aquiline nose, dark hair, brooding eyes –

"Y-yes," she answered, glad the surgical mask hid her open gape. "Nine was with me." In his gaze she spotted her dark hair and was glad her shock hadn't undone the henge jutsu she barely spared a thought for.

"Good," a nod. "I trust you with these men. Take care of them."

He strode away.

And Sakura watched as Uchiha Sasuke disappeared around the corner.

.

.

* * *

**author's note**

Yep. I'm back. Quite rusty.  
I think it'll be a couple of chapters before  
I'm back up to my old self and cranking  
out far more decent chapters.  
This was clipped and to-the-point,  
but I hope it wasn't too horrendous.

_Review?_ : )


	2. Laid Bare

**author's note:** holy moly me oh my, thanks to everyone who's alerted and favorited this little story of mine : ) I am quite inspired for it, though I'm kind of going at it blind here. My appreciation for my first reviewer _rawr_ is endless. But how lonely it is, to only see one. Is this worth becoming invested in? I suppose, seeing as I've got boundless inspiration at the moment, I'll roll with it and see how it pans out. I hope to hear from more of you! _\- Lady Flick_

* * *

**Operation: Nightingale**

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**ii.**

_Laid Bare_

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_What the hell was he doing here?_

Sakura had all but bolted from the soldiers' barracks after watching her former comrade depart. The servant girl had fallen asleep leaning against the wall as she waited for the medic, and Sakura woke her, intent on getting as far away from Uchiha Sasuke as possible. Him being there could very well ruin her plans – would he recognize her? There was nothing in his eyes or his expression that hinted at a flash of familiarity, but half her face was covered and her token pink hair was disguised as brown. But what of next time? Would she always wear a surgical mask around him? Would they encounter each other again?

The young woman sighed and sunk onto the surprisingly hard mattress provided to her. It did little to ease the sudden tension in her back and shoulders. Sakura hunched over, resting her elbows on her thighs and dropping her face into her trembling hands. _What could she do?_

Nobody had seen hide nor hair of the missing-nin in seven years. _Seven years!_ She was still a chuunin! The Hokage's apprentice! He was presumed dead after he finally managed to kill his older brother. But there he was, hiding amidst the storms of the Land of Iron. How long had he been there? What was his incentive? As a precaution she'd have to actively suppress her chakra now-

A knock on the door nearly made the medic jump out of her skin and she stood at the foot of her bed, staring at the entrance, heart pounding. "Yes?" She managed to respond, keeping her voice even.

The door cracked open and there in her threshold appeared Lord Watatsumi. Wrapped in his fur coat, the man blocked whatever torch-light from the corridor might have spilled into the shadowy confines of her quarters. "I hope I'm not bothering you, Miss Hatsui," he began, voice deep, a tremor reverberating from his bones. "I understand you were able to assess my men."

She nodded. "Yes I...I've never seen anything quite like it."

"But you have seen things at least somewhat similar?"

"Well..."

"Miss Hatsui, I sought your aid not for the skill you possess, but for your ability to conduct such thorough research on diseases – without the use of chakra. You will have the aid of my entire medical staff at your disposal. Your journals, in there is an answer somewhere. I do not expect you to be able to heal the men fallen ill but..."

Sakura scowled. "Lord Watatsumi, I am a medic first and a researcher second. I will do what I can to help those men. You have my word."

She found his smile to be easy and off-putting at the same time, as if he was enjoying his own private joke. "Miss Hatsui, you are trembling."

"I-" Her fists had been shaking at her sides. "I am very passionate about what I do," Sakura answered defensively. "I'm sorry Lord Watastsumi, but it's been a very trying week of travel."

The expression in his face was unreadable. "I understand. I admire that passion in you, and please, call me Susanoo." A tilt of his head granted a sliver of light to pass along his profile, accentuating the sharp features of his silhouette. "Good night."

It was minutes after he left and his footsteps faded that Sakura finally allowed herself to breathe.

.

.

The clang of metal echoed off the stone walls, filling the battle chamber with life. Pale blue hair was slick with sweat, fangs bared as his opponent forced him back into a corner. He was quick, however, and before long the icy-haired soldier freed himself from the trap, allowing a smirk to tilt the edge of his lips.

"Don't go soft on my account, Sasuke," he taunted, only earning a warning glare from his counterpart.

The Uchiha responded with a lunge and swing of his arm, his step forceful and demanding, giving his partner little time to decide whether he would benefit from dodging left or right. He knew his enemy, however – and, just as Sasuke predicted, he dodged left, giving the dark-haired shinobi an opening to twist around and catch his sword against his sparring partner's neck. A strand of pale hair fell to the ground.

"Don't get too cocky, Suigetsu."

"Ugh, you got me," the loser conceded, dropping his sword and holding his hands in the air. "Geez, you really need to lighten up."

"Lightening up won't keep you alive," Sasuke snapped, re-sheathing his weapon.

"Being an ass won't keep _you_ alive," Suigetsu grumbled without missing a beat. Upon meeting his comrade's glower, the fanged man rolled his amber eyes, picking up his sword from the cobblestone floor. "Have you heard? That medic's finally made it here – took her long enough, eh?"

Sasuke did hear; in fact, he had greeted said medic a few hours ago.

"You think she'll be able to stop this? God knows I'm not trying to go out that way. Might as well be on the battlefield."

"I don't know," the Uchiha drawled with obvious disinterest, moving to the corner of the chambers where he had discarded his tunic. "She didn't seem particularly special in any way."

"You met her?"

"Does it matter?"

Suigetsu shrugged then and rubbed at the line of red that stained his pale skin. He was cut. "Dammit, Uchiha. Have some control," he groused.

Sasuke, already retreating to his quarters, glanced over his shoulder at his counterpart, "Be quicker next time," and he was gone.

The corridors were abandoned, the other men already likely fast asleep in their respective chambers. Sasuke walked along the twisting halls, autonomous in his trek – how many times had he been on that very same walk? Judging by the iciness in the air, the inexplicable sudden biting cold that burned as much as it chilled, it was well into the evening, perhaps early morning. Darkness from the barred windows merged with the stone walls; it was as if he walked through empty space, and endless trail of solitude and quiet. The man paused at the thought – how fitting.

Upon entering his room and dropping onto his cot, he realized just how strained his muscles were. They burned beneath his skin, inflamed and tense, and the man stared up at the unseen ceiling, trying to will away the pain in his joints. It always passed, after awhile.

What didn't pass, however, were the thoughts creeping out of the crevices in his mind, thoughts that he pushed down into the depth with sheer force of will, but late at night, all alone, in the stillness and afterglow of training, he had no strength. Thoughts of his travels, his accomplishments, his mistakes – his comrades and foes, those he wronged (there were so, _so_ many), his brother...

Sasuke allowed his eyes to close and felt sleep hanging over-head; a cloud bearing immense relief, but refusing to pour.

He had been in Iron Country for the better part of six years; after he heard Susanoo assassinated the former ruler. What was Sasuke doing there? Well, after defeating his brother and learning the truth of his clan, of Konoha, he really had no idea what to do with himself. A part of him wanted to return to his village, but it didn't feel like _his village_ anymore. He had changed, and it had changed, and they were both too different to ever belong in the same sentence again. Naruto belonged in Konoha. Sakura belonged in Konoha. But he? He didn't belong there. He hadn't for a long time.

Where did that leave him?

Sasuke just wanted to do what he could to atone for the blood-splattered history of his people. He wanted to make things right. And that led him to the Land of Iron, where whisperings of a rebellion rose like smoke from a fire. He could recognize those corrupted with power – Orochimaru, the Elders – he faced them enough to know the look in those eyes, those faces, that sought nothing but _more_. He would do whatever he could to put a stop to it.

So he bid his time among Susanoo's samurai, waiting for his moment to strike.

Uchiha Sasuke was many things, but on top of it all, he was patient.

He would wait.

Afterall, he had nothing else to do.

A sigh escaped his cracked lips and he sat up in his cot, returning to the training chambers.

Sleep would not grant him its relief that night.

.

.

Morning came harsh and unforgiving, though Sakura would not have known it if Nine hadn't been banging on her door. Green eyes parted and pink greeted her vision. The medic sat up at once, quickly maintaining the henge that granted her brown locks, before calling her handmaid in.

Nine tentatively opened the door and apologized profusely for waking her.

Sakura waved a hand to dismiss it. "Is something wrong?" She prompted, wiping sleep from a bleary eye.

"Wrong? No, miss, but Lord Watastsumi has requested your presence for breakfast?"

"Breakfast?" Sakura repeated, glancing out her window. Only darkness could be seen, and the occasional flash of lightning. "What time is it?"

"Just about six in the morning Miss Ha-"

"Tsukiko," Sakura corrected, giving her handmaid a look.

Nine blushed and lowered her head in what could only be taken as a bow. "Yes, Tsukiko. Lord Watatsumi has asked for your presence for breakfast. Shall I escort you?"

"I should probably get ready first," the medic muttered, mostly to herself. With a heavy sigh, she rose form her (rather uncomfortable) bed and stretched.

"Yes, of course, will you need my assistance?"

"No, I think I can manage," Sakura answered with a crooked smile.

Nine nodded. "I will wait out here then."

When the door closed, Sakura crumpled into the sheets once more.

After a few more bouts of Nine knocking and reminding Sakura that she was to get ready for breakfast, the medic was _finally_ up and making her way to the breakfast hall. Dressed in a simple wool dress and furlined boots, Sakura considered altering her appearance with a stronger henge jutsu, but decided against it. Susanoo and Nine had both gotten a good look at her face and besides, a stronger use of chakra could surely be identified. She would simply have to play her role well and hope the Uchiha failed to recognize her. It _had_ been nearly a decade.

"Ah, Miss Hatsui," Susanoo greeted with that smile he must be told was charming. "Please, have a seat."

She did so, noting the place settings for two others at his table. "I apologize if I kept you waiting," Sakura offered with a demure smile.

"No need, in fact, you are the first of my guests to arrive. Tell me, Miss Hatsui, did you sleep well?"

Her eyes jumped to his face and she found something there that didn't quite sit well with her. There was something lecherous in the twisted smile, the glow of his gaze. Sakura fought the urge to squirm under his stare. "I slept well enough," she answered, forgoing polite formalities, "though the mattress is a bit firmer than I am accustomed to."

Susanoo arched a single elegant brow and leaned forward on the table, eyes never leaving her face. "Is that so? There a select few beds that are," his voice dropped an octave, "_much_ softer-"

"Am I interrupting something?"

Both occupants turned to a pair walking into the hall.

"Not at all, Mifune," Susanoo answered, straightening up in his seat and gesturing to the other two places at the table. "Miss Hatsui, this is General Mifune. He commands the army."

Mifune, brusque and manly with his unruly hair and rather large nose, nodded his greeting. "We've met. Good morning Miss Hatsui."

"Good morning, General," she responded in kind.

"This is my second-in-command. Lieutenant Himitsu Sasuke."

Sakura's jaw stiffened for the fraction of a second, just long enough for the Lieutenant to narrow his eyes at her reaction. She relaxed it at once and allowed an easy smile to cross her lips. "We've met as well," the medic answered, "though he didn't mention that he was Lieutenant. It's a pleasure." Inwardly, she focused on redirecting the natural flow of her chakra, reversing its progressing spin so as to suppress it rather than summon it. For someone with her kind of control, it was as easy as breathing.

There was static in the air as the two Samurai approached the table. Sakura did her best to keep her eyes on her plate, back straight, but she could _feel _a pair of eyes studying her. When she finally managed to look up, she found that it was Susanoo who had been staring. Sasuke sat across from her, the general to her left, neither particularly interested in _her_.

"So, Miss Hatsui, what could you assess from my men's conditions?" Mifune opened, fixing the young woman with an expectant look.

"Well, it seems that whatever is affecting them is finding passage not through their blood but their veins. From a simply observational approach I can determine that whatever this illness is, it is not something that is easily transmitted. It _seems_ to need some sort of direct contact with the blood-stream." A plate of bread and jam was brought out to the table and Sakura waited for Susanoo to take his helping before grabbing a piece for herself. "But of course, all of this is strictly based on what I observed, I'll have to run tests."

She took her butter knife and spread a generous layer of jelly on her slice of bread.

Sasuke took no jam – and she hated that she even bothered to notice that.

"Do you think you will be able to help them?" Mifune pressed, talking between mouthfuls. He could put that bread away like a beast.

Sakura glanced between him and Susanoo before deciding on an honest shrug. "It's too soon to tell, General. But rest assured, I will do everything I am able."

He nodded his understanding and didn't wait to dig into the scrambled eggs and ham that came out next.

Breakfast went by smoothly enough, with the quartet speaking of nothing particularly important. In fact, Sakura wasn't even sure as to the purpose of their meal together – if Susanoo wasn't looking to discuss serious matters, why bother? It became clear as the meal came to an end, however, that there _was _a very delicate matter at hand –

"Lord Watatsumi. As you know, Lightning Country is beginning to attack our borders. I will need to take my men and..." Mifune cast a furtive glance Sakura's way, "..._take care_ of them. I will be leaving my lieutenant behind to oversee things here. Should things take a...ah," another uncertain look towards the only woman present, "...turn for the worse, you can trust him to handle it."

"General, I am a grown woman and am not shy around the wounded and dying," Sakura quipped, "Please don't feel the need to censor the truth on my account."

At her outburst, Susanoo laughed. "This one has fire in her."

Sakura met Sasuke's gaze across the table-

And she conveniently dropped her fork.

.

.

The door to Suigetsu's room burst open and the pale-haired man scowled at the intrusion, lazily drawing a blanket over both him and his naked guest. She was a plain looking girl with long dark hair and a shapely form. The makeup that dotted her cheeks was lined with sweat, the paint on her lips smudged across the boundaries of her mouth (and likely on certain other places on the fanged samurai, as well).

"So, how was breakfast with the almighty Watatsumi?"

Sasuke glared in response, simply pacing the width of the chamber.

"That good, huh?"

"Mifune is taking our troops to defend the border," the Uchiha answered, doing his best to suppress his frustration. Why should _he _be left behind to baby-sit half-conscious men? All he needed was to kill off Mifune and he would be in command of the Samurai. He would be one step closer to stopping Susanoo.

"So? You get to relax here and have all these lovely women to yourself," he finished the thought with a suggestive grin directed right at his escort who giggled in response and buried her head beneath the sheets to presumably pleasure the very content samurai. "_Ah_," Suigetsu moaned, "you know, you should try this sometime, it'll help relieve the pressure from that stick up your ass."

Sasuke left before he was exposed to anything traumatizing - he had enough of _that_ in his history.

Of course, Sasuke _had_ done those things, in fact, he wasn't a stranger to them at all – but that didn't mean he would waste his time on such frivolities when much more important matters were at hand. Briefly, he recalled the last time he partook in such carnal pleasures. She was a pretty enough thing with big doe eyes and a slim frame. There was no muscle in her body, just taut skin over hard bone, and though she was certainly sexy, something in her voice grated at his nerves. So he gagged her, which she loved. It had been...decent, he supposed. Even so, it _had _been a couple of weeks...

No.

He couldn't waste his time with nonsense.

If he had idle time, he would train.

.

.

"I swear it gets colder and colder every second," Sakura mumbled, tugging the hood of her cloak over her head. "Do you actually get used to this?"

Nine shook her head, but said nothing. The manner in which she carried herself belayed the fear she held for her lord. The young girl was careful with both her words and her actions. Despite her restraint, there was an intelligence and awareness in the handmaiden's eyes that convinced Sakura she knew more – far more – than even Susanoo was aware of.

General Mifune had already taken his men to fight Lightning Country, and after meeting with the medics on staff and designating each available pair of hands to a menial task – in other words, paperwork Sakura would rather not do – she was forced to accomplish the only other task at hand. Working with and reporting to the second-in-command.

His quarters were deep in the labyrinth of the Training Grounds, and Sakura estimated that they had walked at least two kilometers into the stonewall fortress. Nine hesitated before his door and and gesture for Sakura.

The medic nodded her thanks and pushed into the chambers, "Sorry to bother you Lieutenant, but I have some matters to discuss with you-"

It all happened so fast, within a matter of half a breath.

There was Sasuke, just where she was told she would find him. And a very naked (and pleased) woman. The tangle of sheets did little to spare either person their dignity. The woman tilted her head backwards over the edge of the Uchiha's bed, ebony locks tumbling to the damp floor. Her legs were propped on the samurai's shoulders, and his arms were braced on either side of her head to stabilize himself as he pumped deep into her warmth-

His gaze found wide jade eyes and everything _stopped_.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing? Get out!"

Sakura didn't need to be told twice, she immediately shut the door and pressed her back against it, trying to flush the image of a bare Sasuke – with his broad shoulders, defined arms, the sweat-matted planes of his chest – out of her mind.

Beside her, Nine couldn't seem to regain composure of her gaping mouth.

The medic reached over and shut it for her, but there was nothing to be done about the young girl's furious blush. Sakura surmised she must have a similar tinge to her cheeks.

The door flew open and she spun around in time to avoid falling into a bare-chested Uchiha, eyes filled with absolute loathing. "Don't you knock?" He growled, the sound coming from deep within his abdomen.

"I-" Rather than feel like an idiot, Sakura straightened up, dully ignoring the fact that he was likely _naked_ underneath the pillow he held oh-so-casually over his hips. "You should have locked your door!"

Obviously that wasn't the answer he was expecting, if his indignant stare was any indication. He immediately schooled his expression into that of disdain. "What I do in my own private cell is _my _business, Miss Hatsui."

He was right, of course, but that didn't mean she would admit it. "I suggest you finish up _your business_, so you can deal with matters required of the Second-in-Command," she snapped, before turning on her heel to return to the medical branch. A stunned Nine hurried after her.

It didn't take long for the sound of a door slamming to echo down the corridor.

.

.

* * *

**author's notes: **naked sasuke? yes please.

_o1._ I apologize for grammar errors here. I pumped this bad boy out today and though I tried to edit during the writing process, I never seem to be able to catch all the mistakes no matter how many times I reread it.

_o2_. Can Sasuke sense Sakura's chakra? Yes and no, he _would_ be able to, certainly, if she was using a larger amount of it. However not only is she using a small amount to maintain her simple henge, but she is also actively suppressing it. He'll be able to tell if they ever touch, though ; )Sooo ... /shrugs.

_o3._ Hope you enjoyed!


	3. Fire and Shadow

**author's note: **As an aside, have you guys found that nifty little tool that allows you to view a story at 3/4 view? I _love_ it.

* * *

**Operation: Nightingale**

* * *

**iii.**

_Fire and Shadow_

_._

_._

Needless to say, the Uchiha was rather _distracted_ after the interruption and he ordered the young woman currently lying in his bed off to her chambers. She pouted prettily, coaxing him to return with that husky voice and those shapely breasts, but he fixed her with a glare that left no room for argument and she sat up at once, avoiding his eyes as she extricated herself from his bed and searched for her abandoned robes.

A glance down at his form coerced a groan from the frustrated shinobi and, with sheer force of will, he made himself forget the way soft skin brushed against his neck and the way his consort's chest bounced with each thrust and the way her nails scraped into his back and the feel of her around his most sensitive appendage and the way that medic's eyes went wide with shock as she stood there, witnessing him enjoy the most carnal of pleasures and he ignored the way just that bit of exposure had him inexplicably excited- _what_ the hell was he thinking?

The woman made a move for the door but Sasuke reached out to grab her wrist and pinned her against the barricade. The pillow dropped, exposing a job left unfinished and the woman offered a sultry smile. Sasuke didn't even see it, already moving down to bury his face into the crook of her neck, imagining wide green eyes and the soft, inviting, gape of that medic's parted lips and he pretended she was there, watching, with every thrust, every moan escaping the servant girl's throat. Or perhaps he was imagining her instead, grasping at his shoulders, grinding against his movements - his thoughts were getting rather muddled but that didn't matter because just the thought of having been caught was enough for him to get exactly where he needed to go (not that Uchiha Sasuke couldn't get there on his own, of course).

If he was an exhibitionist he never knew it, but as he rode down from the high of release, he pressed his forehead against the door frame and wondered if he'd always been that way or if it was a realization being intruded on brought out. It was something new he found out about himself. And there was something highly enticing about it.

A lazy flick of his wrist opened the door, and without a word, he made it very clear the woman was to leave. She did so, clasping her robes over her figure. The disgruntled look on her face let him know she hadn't been entirely satisfied, but the man really couldn't care less. Normally he rode the sensations out until both parties were content, but (as the medic said) he had business to attend to. The man took a moment to collect himself, brushing the sweat-matted bangs from his face, before getting dressed in a simple tunic and coat and heading off to find the girl with green eyes.

Sasuke found her in the medical ward, hunched over a cot and writing furiously in her journal. When he entered, she glanced up from her work, as if alerted to his presence, and frowned. The expression on her face was _so familiar_ in that instant, and her eyes, _god_ those eyes that were wide and horrified in seeing him and the satisfaction that lingered in his abdomen at the memory of it -

"Take care of your business, then?"

Her tone was so lofty that any sensual thoughts he might have had for the young woman were instantly dissipated. He scowled, "Yes, I did."

A flip of her journal and she turned her body away from the figure on the cot, instead facing him. One leg crossed over the other, the hem of her tunic casting suggestive shadows along her thigh. He allowed his eyes to traverse the line of her leg, before moving up along her form to meet her very unamused face. If she noticed him eyeing her, she didn't bother mentioning it. Besides, the present expression on _his _face betrayed nothing but disinterest and frustration. Not that he was interested in her, in any case, he was simply observational. He always had been.

"Well, I'm glad." (Something in her words gave him the impression that she wasn't 'glad' at all.) "But now that you're here, I should tell you what I've found about this illness that's spreading among _your_ ranks," she said with self-imposed authority. "I haven't done much work as of yet, and of course tests are on-going, but what I've been able to surmise is that this disease finds a way to block the chakra system, essentially rendering a person unable to use it."

Sasuke listened as she prattled on with medical jargon that he couldn't follow, but in the end he moved towards her and slammed a hand down on her precious journal. "Cut to the chase."

She frowned, prying her notebook from beneath his palm, suddenly aware of his looming presence before her. Sakura stood to match his height, forehead nearly brushing against his scowl, and moved back a step. "The chakra system has been blocked, yes, but the blood is still pumping through their veins, just..." she paused, nipping at her lip to find appropriate, understandable words, "...much slower. Causing an almost stasis effect on the body."

"And?" Sasuke prompted, literally looking down his nose at the brown-haired medic.

"I don't know how to recharge the chakra. I imagine it to be similar to dried blood on skin. Liquid will energize the dried blood, letting it run with a fluid consistency again. Maybe if there was a way to, I don't know, recharge the chakra..."

"With more chakra?" The samurai supplied, moving closer to the body, hands ready to press his chakra into the seemingly dead man's chest.

"Well yes, but no!" Sakura exclaimed, grabbing his hands before he could do anything stupid. "Are you a trained medic?" She countered angrily, rhetorically, "Do you know how to properly control your chakra to a medical nin's degree?"

But Sasuke wasn't listening. Her hands were calloused with work that he doubted any civilian doctor would encounter, and her reflexes? He had barely registered that she moved, how could she have grabbed his wrists so quickly? His dark eyes bore into hers; so green, so _angry_, and so familiar all the same. Who was this Hatsui Tsukiko? Something in the back of his mind twitched, a very much faded memory from a long, long time ago._  
_

Sakura let him go at once, lowering her eyes to the ground, and mentally chided herself for forgetting just _who _she was pretending to be. She couldn't deny the shock that shot up her forearms in touching him – it was like falling into your own bed after a long mission. Comforting. She could see the clock-gears grind in his head though he didn't ask her any questions outright. She knew Sasuke well enough to be aware of when he was mentally churning something over, when he was suspicious. The medic moved away from him then and dislodged a sudden lump in her throat with a cough.

"I—I'll have to ask one of the medic-nin at Lord Susanoo's disposal to attempt it," she said, irritation seeping into her voice.

Sasuke nodded once slowly, studying her posture, the way she held the journal to her chest, the way her hair fell over her shoulders, across her eyes in a wave of chocolate – he hated chocolate. "I'll go get someone," he said carefully, the frown still on his face. But he wasn't angry, he was confused. And he didn't like being confused. "What did you say your name was?"

Her eyes met his then and those lips of hers parted (lips that, moments ago, were settled in a gape that managed to rile him up) as if to say something, then she stopped and took another cautionary step away. "Hatsui Tsukiko," she said evenly.

"Hatsui Tsukiko," he rolled the name around on his tongue to see if it felt familiar. It didn't. "Alright, Tsukiko. I'll be right back with a medic."

Only after his form vanished around a corner did Sakura allow herself to sink to the ground, legs trembling from facing off against the Uchiha. Did he know? He certainly suspected something, and that was because she forgot who she was and reverted to medic-Sakura mode. She couldn't erase the memory of the shock in his eyes when she caught him – lithe, precise, too quick for a civilian. And his _eyes_, would there be a day she could look into them and not feel something twist in her gut? She was a grown ass woman and yet there she sat, a puddle on the floor, because of Uchiha Sasuke.

Sakura sighed and leaned her head back. What the hell was he even _doing_ in Iron Country?

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, reminding herself over and over that she was not Haruno Sakura. She was Hatsui Tsukiko. The civilian doctor. And she had no history with Uchiha Sasuke.

By the time the aforementioned man returned with a medic, the brunette was seated by the first samurai who contracted the illness. She greeted them pleasantly enough, with a cold professional air, using only clipped responses or commands when she needed to. Otherwise, she kept her focus on the samurai lying in the cot, eyes unwavering from his face in anticipation. The medic-nin – his name was Habitsu - slowly pulsed chakra into the patient's torso, tentatively at first then more as Sakura instructed.

She remained a good foot away from Sasuke, he noted with mild curiosity, shifting whenever he'd make a move nearer.

And then –

"Look!" Sakura breathed, a genuine smile on her face, in her eyes.

Sasuke looked, and there, in the cot, was a man whose color warmed from pale to pink whose chest rose and fell with ease, whose eyeballs moved beneath his lids as though in a dream.

"We did it!" She said in relief, something much more than satisfaction in her voice, and she gave Habitsu a hug, arms wrapped tightly about his frame. Sasuke saw him hesitate at first, then awkwardly pat at her shoulder. When she released him, she nodded the Uchiha's way and instantly put Habitsu to work as she began testing the patient's vital signs.

Sasuke left.

.

.

Sakura lied in bed that evening, studying the images splayed across her ceiling. The ongoing storm outside streamed shadows along her walls, the rain dripping down her window. Normally, she was terrified of storms, but there was something soothing about the drumming of the rain that assuaged her fears. It also kept her mind from recalling earlier events that day – namely walking in on her childhood love having sex with another woman. A part of her felt like she should have been angrier, but her interest was piqued. She had never _seen_ people have sex before, and Sasuke had looked every bit as tantalizing as he had in her day dreams.

Dark hair flush against his forehead, locks falling freely over his face, sweat dotting his temples, his neck, before dripping in rivulets along the muscles beneath his taut skin, the look of intensity and purpose in his eyes – clouded over with _pleasure_ and the promise of something explosive –

_Stop it, Sakura_, she ordered. There was no room for him in her life now!

Even so, it was near impossible to forget the way his abdominal muscles flexed as he pressed his hips flush against that servant girl's hips, the way his triceps popped as he braced himself. Sakura sighed at the memory, picturing it, picturing him. The warmth of his skin when she grabbed his wrists...

_No. No, no, no, no, no!_

Her eyes peeled open then, set in a permanent glare on the ceiling. She would _not _waste her thoughts on the (sexy, illustrious, tantalizing) Uchiha.

Lightning flashed, almost causing her to tense. It was a beckoning for her to admire the vastly furnished chambers, before submerging her sight to darkness again. It was like a game. How much could she see before it disappeared? How much could she remember of the items in her room?

A rustic mirror hung on the far wall. A dresser carved like the curving, languid silhouette of a stretching cat. An armoire that nearly reached the ceiling. Crown molding that mirrored waves. A shadow standing by the door –

She leapt out of bed, but was cast into obscurity. It was easy enough to find the intruder of course, as he lunged at her, sword raised. Sakura moved with practiced grace, easily avoiding his strike and instead delivering a faintly chakra-assisted blow of her own to send him flying. His body hit the far wall before crumpling to the ground. A rather large dent marked his point of contact and Sakura suddenly realized just _what_ she did wrong. A billion methods of avoiding him raced through her head - _scream for help, evade, knock him out with medical ninjutsu,_ but leaving such an obvious show of strength? Thoughts of Sasuke had her so on edge; she was an _idiot_._  
_

Without wasting another second, she raced to him and rammed _herself_ against the wall, making sure to bruise. She hauled the man's body atop her form, and carefully bumped his forehead against the hilt of his sword, before promptly calling, "Help!"

To her surprise, Sasuke was the one who appeared at her door first (what was he doing so nearby?), followed quickly by Susanoo and various handmaids, Nine among them. In Susanoo's hand was a flickering torch shed a light that pushed the darkness back just enough to reveal most of the room before dancing among the languid shadows. Sakura suddenly felt on display in her night gown. The bed sheets were so thick and warm, it was a feat to be wearing anything at all! She wasn't a stranger to going bare beneath the comforters.

"What happened here?" The lord demanded, stalking in and making no effort to avoid ravaging the medic with his eyes. He was certainly a fortress in his own right, his height rivaling that of Sasuke's - his shoulders broader, menacing, but comforting if one was to disappear into an embrace.

She squirmed beneath the weight of the unconscious body but quickly held her arms across her chest as Sasuke lifted the intruder off of her. Susanoo extended his hand to help her up, and she made a show of being in pain, favoring her back and right shoulder. "I was in bed when he entered and I don't know, he tried to attack me," she properly wailed, "I tried to get away but he bull-rushed me against this wall and I guess he hit his head against the hilt of his sword."

The look Sasuke gave her was filled with disbelief, but he remained silent.

Susanoo made a show of fussing over Sakura and draped his coat across her shoulders (it was exceedingly large) as his medical team assessed her condition. In the end, the medics reported some deep bone bruising but nothing more, and cleared her to remain in her quarters. The intruder on the other hand... The Iron Lord was livid and barked orders at his men to do their best to awaken the assailant and demand answers. "A breach of security! Who was on patrol in the ward? How did he get so far with his weapon? Nobody stopped him? Where was the guard who secured this floor? Who _is_ this man? He is wearing the armor of my samurai!"

"Yoshida Hiro," Sasuke declared as the staff lifted the man onto a stretcher to bring him to the medical sect. Susanoo escorted them, gaining what he could from their observations and the situation. That left just Sakura and the dark haired samurai standing oh-so near her bed. "He was the man you worked on earlier, Tsukiko."

"What?" She whispered, eyes widening at the news. "The first patient?"

A nod.

"But-"

"I think we have more pressing matters," Sasuke interrupted, taking two striding steps to close the distance between them. Sakura was hyper-aware of his proximity and the scant clothing she wore beneath Susanoo's fur robes. "Hiro was hit in the back of the head as well. Not just the front. If he had run into the hilt of his sword when he rushed at you then what-"

Sakura kissed him.

Anything to distract him, to stop his talking.

And it worked, because he responded in kind, so enthusiastic that Sakura wondered if he _hadn't_ finished his business with that woman in his bed. He shifted his weight to account for her body pressed against his, because she had leaned a bit too far forward and lost her balance but that didn't matter because Sakura _knew_ him and she expected him to catch her. His arms hooked around her then, fingers digging into the fur, and even through the robes his fingertips left blazing fires across her skin.

Her day dreams came flooding back and Sakura took his kisses hungrily, slanting over his mouth to taste more – just a little more – and he matched her advancements, forcing her back into the wall – the dent – and flattening her against it with his strong frame. When his lips left hers she began to protest but was answered with a growl that thrummed from his throat. His kisses massaged the base of her neck, and his _hands_ ventured beneath her coat, ghosting over the soft fabric of her nightgown and Sakura melted into his touch.

In a fluid motion he had hiked her up, legs propped around his waist, hands supporting the backs of her firm thighs and he fell flush into her, so much so that had he removed his grip on the sweet, inviting curve of her ass, she would have likely remained suspended off the ground.

Sasuke took her in, the salty-sweet beads of sweat along her neck, the sharp edge of her collar bone, the slick heat between her legs, and the way her chest felt crushed against the smooth expanse of his torso and the deftness of her fingers as they tangled through his hair, and the _gasp _that emerged from her swollen lips as he grazed exploratory fingers over her warmth, protected only by the gauze of underwear that could easily be moved to the side.

He knew she had kissed him to delay his train of thought but he wouldn't forget the conversation she so _wonderfully_ interrupted – it could wait. Besides, how could he resist when he still had thoughts of the way she had entered his chambers and those eyes of hers were so wide and curious and shocked and inviting and the same was to be said of that evening when _he_ burst into her room. And the very same could happen then - afterall, he doubted Susanoo was quite finished fawning over his guest (whom Sasuke was currently entangled with).

His fingers teased her, moving in a circular motion over the delicate fabric covering her warmth, and she scratched into his back, nails prominent even over his tunic.

"S-Sasuke-"

"_Unbelievable!_"

The voice came from down the hall and the duo sprung apart at the sound as thudding footsteps grew nearer and nearer until Susanoo appeared at the threshold. By then Sasuke was quite a few steps away from the medic, and Sakura leaned back against the wall, tugging the fur coat about her tightly.

"Lieutenant Himitsu, you're still here?" The lord said with mild surprise.

"It took a bit for Miss Hatsui to calm down enough so that she might be able to recount exactly what happened tonight," he answered as calmly (and as disinterestedly) as though he was watching paint dry.

Susanoo's amber gaze found Sakura – flushed and sweaty – and his eyes softened. "You're welcome to stay in my quarters tonight, if you're uncomfortable remaining here," he offered. If it wasn't for the hint of a smirk at the edge of his lips, she would have mistaken his offer as good-willed. Somewhere in her periphery, Sasuke shifted.

"I'm fine, thank you, Susanoo," she answered with some resolve.

"As you wish," he was visibly put-out. "But I'll risk no more of this happening," the lord announced, squaring his shoulders. "You are far too necessary – you revived Hiro, afterall-"

_Yeah, and he tried to kill me_, Sakura thought wryly.

"-You will be formally trained in self defense. Himitsu Sasuke, you will train her."

Sasuke nodded. "Of course, Lord Watatsumi." A bow.

"Tsukiko," Susanoo opened gently, "Try to get some sleep. Lieutenant? Shall we leave the lady to rest?"

A moment's hesitation, then the Uchiha followed after the retreating lord, and Sakura stared after him, wondering just _what_ she had gotten herself into.

.

.

She was like _fire_ in his grasp, burning, thriving, and dangerous. Sasuke demolished any ideas in his head about how enjoyable it had been to have her in his hands, how sweet she tasted, how easy it was to fit up against her and spare no other thought as to what they were doing and why. In that moment it had just felt like fire engulfing gas and then the explosion of ecstasy. No woman had ever triggered such a reaction from him, particularly not from a _kiss. _And even more so as a distraction – how had she side-tracked him so thoroughly? Perhaps it was the thrill of the moment, the chance of getting caught, the possibility of prying eyes, that drove him to accept her gesture - not only to accept it, but to return it tenfold. That was it. He was just...an exhibitionist of sorts. It was all just new. It had nothing to do with the medic per se.

Sasuke scowled as he moved through the kata of his shinobi years, not bothering with the forms of swordsmanship. He needed something familiar, something he relied on, that was second nature; he needed control, a sense of grounding. Especially after the flash of spontaneity and absolute pleasure – _Stop it._ He would not allow himself to lose focus with such frivolous things. She was a key player in Susanoo's game, it seemed, not some servant girl he could exploit for his release.

His movements were quick but restrained, never wasting energy he didn't need to, going from one form to another with fluid grace; easy as breathing. _But breathing was difficult when she was wrapped around you – _Sasuke abolished that thought at once and continued with his kata.

Even so, as he slid from one form to the next, his movements were restricted by the very distracting erection fighting against his pants.

He scowled.

How annoying.

.

.

* * *

**author's notes:**

_o1. _Phew. A taste of some lovin' baha. Good job, Sakura. Does Sasuke know who she is? Maybe. You'll have to wait and see /cheshire grin.

_o2._ I'm currently in class, in fact I finished this up in class, and I hope I caught most of the mistakes, but I'll likely continue to edit this over the next few days. I just didn't want to keep you guys waiting ; )

_o3._ Training together. Much sexual tension will ensue. Yum. I'll admit, I hadn't planned to have her kiss him or for things to go that far at all. As I was typing, Story Sakura just pounced and I went with it, I guess? Haha I have the events planned out, but things like that, I guess, are out of my control. Story Sakura did that on her own : |

_o4. _Hope you enjoyed! Moarz? Let me know what you think, I always respond to my reviews! I've never actually written an M rated fic so bear with me as I explore this new territory.

_o5. _Is this something I should continue with? I've got plotbunnies galore for this story and I can't wait to unleash them, but I'm unsure of it's the right way to go, such little feedback has been received. Do you guys like it? Hate it? Is something off? Is there something you particularly liked? If you tell me, I can improve : )

\- _Lady Flick_


	4. Training

**author's notes: ** 2000 views? That's pretty awesome, I have to say, and the sudden influx in reviews was a pleasant thing to see as well! It certainly motivated me to stretch my fingers and type out this chapter today. I had planned to have time to do it on Friday and post by Saturday, but friends getting engaged and leaving resulted in many parties to be had this past weekend. But I managed to get out an update regardless - I think that deserves some love in the form of reviews, don't you? I did it for you lovely readers, afterall. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Operation: Nightingale**

* * *

**iv.**

_Training_

**.**

**.**

"You are small," he stated frankly, sizing up the young woman standing before him. "Force won't be on your side, but speed will." Sasuke moved around her, eyes taking in every inch of her slender frame, mentally noting the looseness of her tunic, the appearance of utter _lack_ of anything resembling muscle. _But when your fingers probed beneath her robes, there was evident resistance along her abdominals, her glutes –_ the man obliterated the thought and stood before the medic. "Utilize that advantage, any man that tries to overcome you will consider you weak and use his strength-" did the medic just exhale a derisive snort? "-to subdue you."

Sakura stood stock-still as he circled her, like a predator his prey, and refrained from pressing her various fingers together of one fist; she often fidgeted under such heavy scrutiny. Their previous encounter didn't do much to ease her nerves, considering she was wrapped about him, devouring his kisses and offering her own. He lectured her on the very basic essentials of taijutsu, and she did her best to _seem_ interested, but it was genin-level instruction and Sakura had to try her best to respect his tutelage. But when he denounced her power she very nearly laughed.

She met his gaze as he settled before her. "And what should I do, then?"

The shinobi sighed, an imperceptible motion, but the sound fell on her trained ears, and took a beginner's defensive stance. "At any moment, you could be attacked, and it's difficult to think under that sort of pressure. In this form, you are protecting your center but given the freedom of movement," he demonstrated pivoting first on one foot, then the other, before continuing. "You'll need that sort of fluid motion to evade an attack. You try."

Sakura swallowed her pride and took on the role of humble genin. "Like this?" She asked, lifting her arms far too wide and off-center and barely separating her feet.

Sasuke fought the urge to slap a hand to his forehead. "See this?" He prompted, moving through a slow-motion punch to her chest, "You're leaving yourself completely open for a blow. And this," he continued, nudging her shoulder and watching her stumble, "your feet are too close together. Your center of gravity isn't dispersed for maximum effectiveness. You'll want to square your stance, like this-" he adjusted her arms and, with a tap of his foot on her leg, silently instructed her to widen her feet. "Better," _b__ut not good_, the shinobi finished. "Now, show me how you pivot."

Sakura did so, purposefully putting her weight on her heel.

The expression on her counterpart's face was absolutely hilarious and she looked away to hide the smile threatening to betray her amusement. She was supposed to be learning! "Like that?" She goaded, maintaining an air of naïveté as she met his eyes. There was something to be said about the control the Uchiha had when dealing with an utter moron.

"No!" Sasuke snapped, then, regaining his composure, settled for a scowl. "You pivot on the _ball _of your foot, not the heel." His tone carried all the haughtiness of the twelve year old she was once half in love with. Or entirely in love with. When Sakura only stared in response, he demonstrated his pivot again for good measure. Sakura repeated the movement with all the grace of a child freshly off a rapidly spinning carousel. She knew she was jagged and harsh and deplorable in her pivot, but Sasuke managed to keep his temper. "Good," he muttered, the frustration written, clear as day, in his eyes. "Let's...move on."

Sakura had never seen him so aggravated and hopeless.

She found it absolutely hysterical.

Sasuke watched her pivot – if you could _call _it that – from one foot to the other, and wondered just how she managed to survive in the world for so long. He cringed with each brittle, lumbering turn she made. _She is a civilian_, he reminded himself, _don't expect much from her_. Even so, as she floundered across the length of the chamber, he stepped in and caught her shoulders, halting her mid-pivot so that she wobbled on the ball of a single foot.

"Tsukiko. You-" _are about as graceful as as a fish out of water_ "-are terrible at this."

The frown on Sakura's face was real. Sure, she was putting on an act, but that didn't stop the cracked pride in her chest when Uchiha Sasuke was disappointed in her. Nevermind that he was disappointed in her caricature of Hatsui Tsukiko – whom, Sakura recalled, wasn't particularly ungainly in any respect.

"Keep your foot up, go higher on the ball of your other," he instructed, holding her steady, when she complied, he swiveled her, guiding her shoulders. "The movement should be smooth, fluid, minimal effort. Like this," Sasuke iterated, moving her shoulder first left, then right. "Feel the difference?"

She nodded.

"Good. Now do it again."

She did.

That time, Sasuke noted with mild amusement, she hardly seemed to have been trying. Her pivots were precise and languid, yet the expression on her face was as careless as they come. The medic pivoted as though she had mastered that even prior to walking; it was easy, light, and a large improvement from earlier. _Too_ large. His eyes narrowed as she finished her set across the training room.

Sakura stopped before the wall and took a deep breath. She could still feel his fingertips burning acutely on her shoulders where he had grasped her. His shadow against the stark gray wall alerted the medic to his presence behind her. She was so aware of his proximity, and closed her eyes when his voice – deep, demanding – broke through the strands of her brunette curls, breath warming the nape of her neck.

"Again. This time, avoid me."

The young woman obeyed, finally turning around to meet his stare. They moved around the other so that his back was to the nearest wall, and, remarkably slowly, he made an advancement which she cleanly dodged with a simple swivel to her left. If he was impressed or satisfied with her pivot, he didn't show it, instead making another advance. Sakura slid away, arms held up as he taught her – or as instinct willed her. He moved quicker the next time, but the medic responded in kind, no hesitation, no awkward misstep; it became a dance – the most boring kind – of Sasuke stepping forward and the woman evading. And then he quickened his pace, challenging his pupil. The previous impartial look in his eyes was replaced with something else, something Sakura couldn't quite pin.

It was as if he was daring her to do something, but what?

She felt something akin to fear grip her as her shoulder-blades hit the far wall.

"You're a quick study." It sounded more like an accusation than a compliment.

Sakura lowered her eyes, "I've always been a quick study." A nonchalant lie. For all Sasuke knew, Hatsui Tsukiko _could_ be have been a quick study her entire life. "My...grandfather was a shinobi."

The Uchiha didn't answer, instead, he gave her some space and studied the strange woman. From floundering fish to feline-grace. Something was obviously off. "_Right_. Well, maybe you'll be able to handle some actual defensive moves." He made his way to the center of the room and motioned for her to follow. "Remember, the easiest way to avoid an attack is to evade, but for when you have no choice but to engage an opponent these are the most efficient and least exhaustive actions at your disposal."

As he went over the basic defensive stances and forms, neither party mentioned what sensual overtures transpired the previous night.

.

.

It had been two weeks since the fallen samurai attacked Sakura in her quarters. The fortnight brought with it a myriad of questions as Hiro, after awakening from his coma three days after the incident, had no recollection of where he was, who he was, or what he had done. Most medics wrote it off as amnesia, but as Sakura studied the samurai, locked behind bars and utterly lost, she wondered if it could be as straightforward as that. He hadn't known anything at all; not how to eat, not colors, not numbers – was that really just an intesive case of amnesia?

"The illness must have done something, or perhaps the resurgence of chakra, or the blow to the head. Whatever it was, it fully damaged his mammilary body and the result is...well...retrograde amnesia," Habitsu said, tugging his mask down as they exited the medical ward.

Sakura frowned. "But he didn't remember _anything_," she reasoned, unsatisfied with the medic-nin's report. "Even if he were to forget the most recent events leading up to whatever event had him lose his memory...could it have been such a forceful trauma that it erased _all_ of his memories? What are the odds of that?"

The male shrugged, pushing his glasses up his nose, and offered the brunette a crooked, uncertain smile. "I mean, it's not unheard of, right? What do we really even know? As far as we can tell, he suffered blunt-force trauma and I guess that did it? Maybe the illness even did it? What if it damages the memory processing area of the brain through the entirety of its victim's stasis? That could account for the extreme case of retrograde amnesia."

Sakura was unconvinced and showed as much as she nibbled the top of her pen, distant stare settled on the wall.

"Hatsui-san, whatever it is, I'm sure you'll figure it out," the man declared, a hand at her shoulder. He offered a smile so ardent that she felt compelled to blush at his blatant admiration. "You're the smartest nurse-"

"Doctor."

"-doctor I have ever encountered. If there is something amiss here, I have complete faith you will get to the root of it."

The woman rolled her eyes, but was flattered nonetheless. "Thanks, Habitsu. And call me Tsukiko."

"Tsukiko." Something in his voice carried undertones of something intense and guarded. "Have a good training session with Himitsu-san," he added as he waved her off to the training quarters.

Sakura watched him disappear before continuing through the stone-walled labyrinth until she reached the ever-familiar training room. Sasuke was already inside, kusanagi drawn. He was elegant; as beautiful, dark, and lissom as a panther. When he turned and noticed her at the threshold, he nodded in greeting and sheathed his weapon. "Tsukiko," he acknowledged with familiarity in his tone, "you're early."

She gave a slanted smile so comfortable that Sasuke felt a pang of _something_ in the pit of his stomach at the sight of it, and then a wave of brown curls hid it from view as she stepped out of her robes with a shrug of her slender shoulders. The fur pooled at her feet. "Habitsu and I finished our work early," Sakura answered with ease, "besides, there isn't much more we can do. We've revived all the fallen samurai he was able. All we can do is wait for them to wake up."

"It's been two weeks," Sasuke stated. "No one from the first experimental group has woken up yet?"

Sakura shook her head, kicking the fur coat aside. "Do you want to talk about medical details or do you want to spar-?"

Before she even finished her sentence, the Uchiha threw a punch. It was quick for civilian Tsukiko, but for medic-nin Sakura, it was like watching a fly's wings in slow-motion. She met his fist with her forearm, the contact indirect so that the brunt of his force simply slid to the side, missing her left ear by inches. The Uchiha didn't give her a chance to recover, instantly following with his other fist, which she deflected with a straight locked elbow and flat palm, the impact sliding down and to her right. She took the opportunity to raise raise her left knee, aiming for his temple, but Sasuke rolled into his momentum, disappearing from her attack's route, and fanned his leg out beneath her, knocking the woman off her feet. Sakura growled as she allowed herself to hit the floor with a _thud_, fixing the smirking shinobi with a glare.

"You need to be faster," he admonished.

Though there was no denying that her reflexes had vastly improved since they began.

She was up in the blink of an eye and resumed her defensive stance, luring Sasuke to approach. He did so without hesitation, tossing another punch her way, knowing she would block, and following quickly with a kick. Sakura dropped to a single knee and, bracing herself with her hands against the ground, swept out her free leg. Sasuke jumped over her attack, but the medic launched herself up from her crouch and prepared to shoulder him in the gut as he came down from his leap.

Instead of accepting her blow, he shoved her to the side, redirecting both their trajectories. She landed on all fours, and watched through eyes that were far more calculating than he remembered.

"Fast enough for you, _Sasuke_?" She challenged.

His mouth was set in a scowl, but there was no mistaking the smirk in his eyes.

In a flash he had closed the distance between them and a fist came flying out of nowhere that Sakura could only lean away to avoid. She would have fallen had he not hooked an arm around her waist to catch her.

"Don't get cocky," he ordered. "I am _obviously_ holding back." Was that teasing arrogance?

His arm around her was warm, welcoming, and she pursed her lips to avoid saying something that might betray her true skill. Instead she pried away from him, telling heart to _calm the fuck down_ before it beat right out of her ribcage and flopped onto the floor. "Then don't hold back, maybe I'll surprise you," Sakura huffed, pride overriding her better judgement.

Sasuke blinked, watching her with a guarded gaze, and exhaled a breath that sounded strangely amused. "Hn, fine."

He vanished from her vision.

Sakura instantly glanced around the room: left, right, behind, up, dow–

He emerged from beneath her just as she leapt backwards to avoid his attack, but the onslaught had just begun as he gave her no break before spinning mid-air, sending a kick her way. Sakura pivoted to evade and, as he finished the move, aimed her elbow to his lower back. He braced himself on her _head, _using her to redirect his landing and avoid her blow, and came at her again, side-to-side to confuse his prey, before throwing a punch.

The medic surprised him then, matching his speed, blow for blow, dancing around his attacks. He was forcing her into a corner, she realized, as he hastened his pace and she struggled – without her chakra – to keep up. She knew he was only using a fraction of his true speed, and she bit her llip as she registered his movements, and then she was pressed up against the wall once again, unflinching even as Sasuke's rough, dirtied, bare-knuckled fist froze mere centimeters from her jaw. The air from his punch shifted the strands of hair around her face, but she watched him with those stubborn green eyes, unafraid.

There was something so peculiar about the medic, Sasuke mused as he opened his fist and pressed it flat on the wall to study the woman whose speed increased exponentially from their very first training session. Her chest rose and fell rapidly for a few moments, before she was able to catch her breath and resumed a steady-state heartbeat once more. He leaned his head down so that their eyes were level. "Who _are_ you?"

"Tsukiko," she breathed out, unfaltering and sure in her response. "Who are _you_?"

"A samurai," Sasuke answered, the air from his nostrils fanned across her lips, the heat nearly unbearable. _Nearly_.

Both realized they each lied.

But neither challenged it.

Instead, the suspicion hung between them like a veil, tangible in its thickness, providing both parties a sound alibi to avoid the truth and perhaps believe this little lie they've each hidden behind, allowing the truth to remain somewhere buried deep, deep down. Because maybe, just maybe, this little world they've created for themselves was just what each person needed.

Sakura watched his eyes burn with questions, the dark, smoke-filled abyss of distrust and curiosity. She knew he wanted to ask, knew he was fully aware that she was certainly _not_ a civilian medic as Hatsui Tsukiko claimed to be.

"_Who are you?_"

"Sasuke-"

He was the one to move in that time, to press his mouth to her gasp, to silence her query, because that was not the time to break whatever charade they had put up for the world. He didn't want to know her identity, he didn't want her to break the mystery because that was what drew him to her. The fact that she was a constant surprise, her obstinate nature, the intrigue in her eyes – whatever secrets she might divulge, he devoured them before she could utter a word, massaging her mouth so thoroughly with his own that her lips swelled up; plump and soft, rosy.

As quickly as he did it, he moved away a few steps, arms at his sides.

"I'm sorry," he began, but Sakura silenced him with a fragile smile.

"Don't," she moved towards him then, deliberately slow in her gait. Her hand reached out to him, to touch that face that she adored in her childhood. Her fingers caught in his raven tangles, and she freed her hand from his hair. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time," she murmured, palm catching his jaw, and then she rose onto her toes. The kiss was gentle at first, the first trickles of a storm, before devolving to the very hurricane that his thoughts became whenever they involved the annoying woman.

He growled into her mouth, tongue seeking a spar which she instantly obliged, and he snaked his arms around her waist, holding her closer, possessively, exploring the confines of her tantalizing orifice – the thought brought unbidden thoughts of _other_ orifices to his mind and he groaned along the slant of her lips as he took a breath, knowing exactly where his blood was rushing. The woman took complete advantage of his pause and pushed into him, taking in every detail of his mouth, her tongue flicked over the bumps on the roof, the insides, she mentally took stock of his teeth, and then his large muscle was back to fight for dominance and _god_ he tasted like tomatoes and something else entirely _Sasuke_.

Then her hands were clawing at his shirt, searching for reprieve, before they ghosted beneath the hem and – _oh god_ – her palms, those light, medic palms, claimed the expanse of his torso. His tunic was thrown over his head in a single motion, granting her access to the planes of his chest and she took it in. Sasuke welcomed her touch, allowing his own hands to traverse along the silhouette of her frame, tracing the curves hidden beneath her over-sized clothes. He wondered at the hard body that met his gropes; she always seemed so lanky in her attire, but it was evident, as he shoved the hem of her tunic upwards to expose the defined muscle of her lower abs, that she was _far_ from lanky. She was lean, she was _sexy_, and he felt her smirk against his mouth as if she _knew_.

His palms moved upwards to cup each breast through her bra and the resulting sigh of surprise enticed him to continue. A finger hooked beneath a single strap and flicked it off her shoulder, and that hand freed her welcome breast; he massaged it fully, other hand escaping into her over-sized trousers, memorizing the curves of her body, the hills and valleys that made up her back, her ass, the hard muscle of her thighs.

The medic moaned then, an entirely involuntary reaction that spurred Sasuke to explore more of her.

She ground against him, knowing just what he desired and wanting nothing more than to _give it to him_, and he welcomed her gyrations, both hands focusing on pressing her hips into his so that she could be well-acquainted with the erection testing the flexibility of his pants.

"_Tsukiko-_" he growled, and she pulled away, looking up to give him the most devilish of smirks, before dropping her hand past the waist-band of his pants; her warm, soft, hand grabbing hold of his most sensitive appendage-

"Sasuke?"

He blinked.

Wide green eyes stared back.

His hand was flattened along the wall beside her head, but otherwise, nothing more seemed to have transpired between them following their spar.

The medic shifted from one foot to the other. "You, er...spaced out just now," she said, watching him carefully. "Are you...ok?"

He stood up straight and took a large step away from the woman. "Hn," the Uchiha grunted.

Sakura arched a brow but didn't press the matter. "Well, I should go," she said, peeling herself away from the damp stone wall. "Thank you for training me today," she said quickly, offering an oddly formal bow before sweeping down to grab her coat. As he watched her go, he noticed Nine was waiting at the door. He nodded in acknowledgement.

Nine flushed a bright crimson and responded with a bow of her own – jerky, unrefined – before disappearing down the hall.

The medic paused at the threshold and turned to shoot him that crooked smile of hers. "Oh and Sasuke, you might want to take a cold shower."

Sasuke frowned as she retreated into the torch-lit corridor, but the twitch of his erection alerted him to the meaning behind her words. He groaned inwardly and stalked off to do just as she suggested.

Annoying medic.

.

.

* * *

**author's notes:**

_o1._ So yeah, he day-dreamed that, our Sasucakes is becoming enthralled with this medic. He is 100% sure that she is not a civilian, and though she reminds him of Sakura, he hasn't quite put two and two together yet - but he will soon, promise!

_o2. _I did my best to edit this before I posted it, but I am notorious for missing things. I'll continuously read over it over the next few days until I am satisfied with catching all the errors.

_o3._ Review? A ball awaits that should promise some _real_ fun (and not just Sasuke's dirty, dirty, day dreams).

_o4. _News regarding the current of this story and chapter progress will be on my profile, if you are curious/antsy! : ) I will update said news frequently enough, so you know it is recent.


	5. Freckles

**author's note**: Sorry for taking longer than anticipated : ( I posted progress of this chapter on my profile, and updated it often enough to let you guys know I didn't just disappear. What with a family member passing; two exams this past week; and completely buying furniture, rearranging (and, battling the spiders whilst cleaning) my little studio, I had little time to sit and rest, let alone a solid hours or so to add anything significant to the story. But this morning I had a reprieve, all that is over, and I finally sat down and churned this out! I sincerely appreciate the wonderful reviews I've received thus far! I replied to all I was able (I believe), and I can't wait to read what you guys think of this update! I literally _just_ finished it up, and read it over a couple of times to try and catch errors, but again, I will be going back to constantly edit portions of this until I am satisfied, as per usual. Enjoy!

* * *

**Operation: Nightingale**

* * *

**v.**

_Freckles_

_._

_._

"Tsukiko...if I may be so bold, what were you two doing before I came to summon you?"

Sakura, whose cheeks were a brilliant red, shrugged on her coat. "We were _training, _Nine," she insisted for the umpteenth time, peering askance at the girl with a flawlessly painted ivory face. The crinkled red dots at her cheek bones betrayed the large smile that danced across the handmaid's lips.

"Is that what they're calling it nowadays?"

Sakura could practically hear the smirk in the young girl's voice and scowled, "Oh, shutup."

The adolescent snorted in wry amusement but said nothing.

Despite her teasing, Sakura was grateful the girl was warming up to her. It took two weeks for the handmaid to finally become comfortable enough to refer to her as Tsukiko, and, Sakura learned, she was actually _sixteen_ years old. Though the medic shouldn't be too surprised, the paint easily masked her maturity. Besides that, the over-sized kimono wrapped about her already small frame dwarfed her in its (thick but warm) fabric.

The duo exited through the large iron barricade of the samurai grounds and into the sludge-filled tunnel beneath the castle. "Nine?"

The girl glanced over her shoulder, torch-light flickering across her face. "Yes, Tsukiko?"

"Don't...tell anyone."

Nine smiled and pushed against the wooden door, snuffing out the torch as she did so. "Of course, miss."

They retreated to Sakura's quarters in silence, though the blush never quite left the medic's face.

.

.

The water rushed from its faucet, the pressure strong and forgiving. A deep sigh escaped the shinobi's lips as he welcomed the heat, steam filling the communal shower chamber. Sasuke stood beneath the water in silence, reveling in its warmth, hair drenched and plastered to his forehead and neck, the fringes just barely bothering his vision. He wondered at the effect that woman had on him, the way she could elicit such a response – she could have killed him if she had half a mind to, and why? Because he had lost himself for a moment and fell prey to a _day dream_. A _d-a-y-d-r-e-a-m._ Uchiha Sasuke did _not_ have day dreams (except in his youth when he thought of murdering his own brother, and even _that_ was a far cry from his most recent reverie).

The man scowled and reached for the bar of soap tucked into a small compartment near the shower's knobs and absently lathered it across his chest, shoulders, down his arms and taut middle, willing away thoughts of green eyes and that tilted smile.

Soap trickled down his form, following the curves of his defined muscles, pooling at his bare feet and flowing into the central drain.

Just what the hell was so intriguing about that woman! Sasuke was no idiot – he had figured out she was not a civilian the first day of their training, but he didn't press on the matter. Afterall, he had no idea just what she was capable of, or what she was planning. For simplicity's sake, maybe she was in it for the money to help out her village and meant no harm whatsoever. _Or she could be a spy_, his mind whispered and the Uchiha entertained that idea. She did well masking her chakra – obviously she was a tracker – _or a medic nin_. Yes, he conceded, _definitely a medic nin_. Such control was invaluable and a skill that could only be honed so much. Must of it was affinity.

A flash of pink hair and wide, too wide, green eyes came to mind, and he wondered...

But no. Her hair was _pink – Like spring_, his treacherous brain supplied, _like flowers and innocence_ – the man shook his head. She would have had no idea that he was even stationed there, if it _was_ her, she wouldn't need to hide her brilliant features. _Brilliant features_, the thought came unbidden and he squashed it at once. If he ever had a chance to pursue a normal life in Konoha, it was far behind him now.

No. It couldn't be Sakura.

Though, the more he ruminated on that possibility, the harder it was to recall just _what_ she actually looked like. Whenever he thought of her (which was _rare _and never in an inappropriate manner thank-you-very-much) it was always of choppy pink hair and green eyes and monstrous strength. Not the small slightly upturned nose, not the slight freckles of a tan dotting the sides of her neck and tops of her shoulders, and certainly not her sharp chin and round cheeks.

Did Tsukiko have those features-?

"Sasuke!"

The Uchiha's eyes jumped to the entrance and his frown deepened.

A slategray headed man stood a decent distance away, offering a cocky grin. "I'm back!"

Sasuke shook his head and turned to face the wall, rinsing off the rest of the lather, forgetting his train of thought.

"Susanoo's so glad we're back, you should have seen him greet us! He pulled out all the stops – women and food and servants – and get this, he's throwing a _ball_ for us. Ha!" Suigetsu couldn't seem to grasp the fact that Sasuke was currently _occupied_ and was not at all interested in interacting with anyone, particularly another man. "Which means we're having a giant party here. Gods know we all need it, eh? Drinking, eating, dancing, womanizing—speaking of, I've heard some interesting rumors from the ladies around here concerning you and a certain civilian doctor-"

"Suigetsu," Sasuke snapped, fixing a glare at his partner, "Shut up."

The blue-haired shinobi only chuckled and turned away, waving an absent hand over his shoulder. "Sure, sure. I bet she'll be at the ball, though. Might be an opportune time to, y'know, _whisk her off her feet_."

Sasuke obliterated thoughts of flowing dresses and soft lips, insistently scrubbing at his skin as if scrubbing away impure day dreams.

.

.

"Vital signs are steady, his pupils are responsive to stimuli," Habitsu reported absently as he withdrew from the patient and turned to the head medic. His glasses dipped down his nose, and he pushed it back up, giving the young woman a heavy sigh. "Nothing different from yesterday or the day before or three days ago," he admonished, slightly irate, mostly disheartened. "Do you think any of them will wake up?"

Sakura was busy writing down his observations for the daily report and paused to glance up from her clipboard. The deep-set scowl on her counterparts face belied a hopelessness, and she lightly shoved his shoulder away as a friend would. "Don't talk like that, Habitsu," she chided. "If their bodies are responsive and there seems to be no problem, maybe their bodies are doing their best to revive them fully. Our bodies take rather good care of us, there is a point where we can only rely on that and our own will." With a sigh, she lowered the clip board and leaned back on a stool, eyes scanning the ward for any sign of one of the coma-induced samurai to awaken. _But it has been quite a long time. We are burning through Susanoo's funds to keep them alive..._

Though she never turned her back on patients who needed her aid and always gave her all to help, life hardened her to the point of assessing situations in terms of what was best in the long run. Being Tsunade's apprentice for so long, she witnessed first hand the trials the Hokage had to face – not only was she to act in the best interest of her people, but in the best interest of the village, as well. Sometimes difficult decisions had to be made, and losses had to be cut. The inner team member in her would always refuse to abandon a friend – if it was Naruto on one of those cots, she would do whatever was in her power to bring him back. But it wasn't Naruto, or Sai, or Tsunade, or Kakashi.

She knew their names, yes, but that was the extent of her relation with them.

Another part of her wanted to solve this mystery – pride or the satisfaction of knowing she was able to defeat this threat – though no recognition would fall upon her, rather, the civilian doctor. But that hardly mattered.

"Tsukiko," the deep voice could only belong to one person, and she stood from her stool to turn around and greet the lord who welcomed her to his manor.

She lowered her head, "Susanoo."

His amber eyes moved over to Habitsu who mimicked Sakura's motion. "Anything new?" The man asked, already knowing the answer simply from reading the expression on Sakura's face. He nodded his understanding. "I see. Well, the samurai have returned victorious from their battle with Lightning Country. A welcome distraction from the growing dread brought about by this...illness." There was a strain in his voice and worry in his eyes, but the lord did nothing to betray his unease. In fact, he held himself high, shoulders back, presence looming; despite his magnanimous and lavish character, she had to admire the fact that he could comport himself so professionally in the face of what all three of them knew as a hopeless case.

"There _is_ hope," Sakura pressed, watching him; the way his golden eyes fixated so fully on her being caused something inside her to twist beneath his probing gaze.

The easy albeit small smile that graced his lips replaced his intense stare, and the older male nodded. "Yes," though his voice lacked conviction. "How is Hiro?"

It was clear his question was rhetorical, meant to get a rise from the woman, but Sakura bit back her retort, opting for a subdued reply. "He still can't remember a thing."

"Perhaps Kyouta-san's chakra was far too strong and-"

"Lord Watatsumi, Habitsu has excellent chakra control-" _almost better than me,_ "-and he has taken absolute care and precision when healing _your_ men. I would not be so quick to place blame on a man who is using his energy to help you. You should be grateful for what he has done so far, or else you would have twenty eight graves right now."

"Tsukiko, that is unnecessary-" Habitsu began, but Susanoo lifted a hand to silence the bespectacled medic.

For the first time, Sakura saw darkness in Susanoo's eyes. "I admire your respect for your peers, Tsukiko, but I should not need to remind you of your place. You may be a guest in my fortress, but do not forget that I have _employed_ you. Thus far you have given me nothing but a squad of sleeping samurai and one who can't even remember to hold a sword. You must learn to bite your tongue when you have nothing useful to offer." And he turned on his heel to sweep out of the medic bay.

Sakura took a step towards the door to – what? Chase after him? Habitsu's hand on her arm stopped her, and she looked over at him.

"Thank you, Tsukiko," he said gently. He dropped his hand from her forearm as if it burned him, and then took a step away, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "But you needn't defend me. Lord Watatsumi knows how valuable I am. He is just frustrated. Now, shall we check on Hiro?"

Sakura relented, but made a mental note of keeping a professional distance from Susanoo. He was right, afterall, she had gotten too comfortable in her conversations with him. He was still the lord, and for a moment she forgot they were not on amicable terms – only respectable ones. Professional ones. The medic sighed and followed Habitsu to Hiro's quarters, though both medics knew there would be no improvement in his condition.

.

.

"That is the perfect color on you, Tsukiko," Nine said with a smile. She stood beside her lady as both women inspected Sakura's reflection in the vast mirror. Brown hair a tumble of curls dropping over one shoulder, a navy dress with silver embroidery hugged at the bodice and emerged at her hips, reminiscent of princesses in old fairy tales. She wondered if all the guests would be dressed so lavishly – Sakura felt so miniscule in such a grand gown.

But she couldn't deny the fact that the navy suited her. In fact, it reminded her of a certain high-collared shirt a black-haired genin often wore in his childhood. Something about that brought a smile to her lips, and she smoothed out the front of her dress, eyeing the swirling pattern of silver dips and dots. It was like the night sky. She turned towards her handmaid and grinned. "You made a great choice, thank you, Nine." The young girl blushed and nodded, lowering her head in respect, but Sakura lifted her handmaid's chin. "You don't need to treat me like I'm some sort of royalty," she declared, "I'm a civilian, afterall. I just happen to be good with medicine."

Nine's eyes widened at once, the color drained from her face, "I-"

"Will you be attending this with me?" Sakura continued, not allowing the adolescent to ruminate on the idea of being _equals_ (because, truth be told, it seemed Nine would have a heart attack at the very thought – which was strange).

"Well, the ladies are welcome to attend, you know, the ladies who - er..._entertain_ the samurai. But us servants don't attend such functions."

Sakura looked at the girl then, wondering at her age – _sixteen - "_Nine, do handmaids eventually entertain the men?"

Nine didn't respond, but her reddening cheeks were all Sakura needed.

Her hands found the young girl's shoulders – _She will be taller than me_, the medic noted with something akin to affection. "Promise me that you will never ever concede to doing anything with a man that you are not comfortable with."

"Tsukiko-"

"_Promise me_," Sakura urged, staring into the girl's _blue_ eyes. Did she ever notice them? They were startlingly blue. "Don't you ever allow them to-"

But the adolescent's smile interrupted, and her gentle, delicate hand covered the medic's. "Thank you, Tsukiko," she said earnestly. "I-I promise."

As Sakura nodded in relief and moved to slip into her borrowed shoes, Nine watched herself in the mirror, blinking away the deceit in her crystalline gaze. She simply didn't have the heart to tell her lady that she had already breached that threshold, and that she was slowly integrating herself into the ranks of the concubines. It was simply a rite of passage, not unlike receiving the blood of womanhood. But it was clear her lady medic would not understand, and so she remained silent, if only to preserve Tsukiko's happiness.

"Nine?"

The handmaid turned to the tawny-headed woman standing before her, looking every bit as regal as a true queen. "Yes?"

"You are a beautiful, smart, young woman," Sakura said gently, "don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

With those parting words, the civilian doctor disappeared out the door leaving Nine to study her reflection in a way she had never done so before.

.

.

A jab at his upper arm alerted him to presence of his often annoying partner. The sleet-haired shinobi could pass as an actual gentleman in the fitted dark suit gifted to the samurai by Susanoo. They were all measured and given formal wear for the anticipated ball – a week after the samurai dispatched to meet Lightning Country's forces had returned victorious, the festivities were held. All the elite from the Land of Iron were in attendance, the noblemen and women ("And their daughters!" Suigetsu declared with all the confidence of a lord in line to inherit a throne), traveled the ragged mountain ranges to see and be seen, and perhaps rub elbows with the others of their status – or to help boost their status. That aside, celebrations in the Land of Iron were few and far between. Needless to say, people were fussing over this ball through the entire week, which was why, when the evening finally arrived, Sasuke had grown tired of hearing about it and the scant opportunities it afforded those of lower rank. He wasn't interested in such things, afterall.

Perhaps it would provide the perfect moment to make his move – there were so many people about, so many after Susanoo's money, so many after control of Iron Country, it could be anyone. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, fingers barely grazing over the kunai attached to his upper thigh. He would make his move that night, likely when Susanoo was busy with a lady of his choosing. He could even frame whichever unfortunate victim the lord would end up bedding – the aid of his Sharingan allowed him as much. It was perfect.

"Did you see that one?" Suigetsu muttered at his side, assessing the flowers in the field, just waiting to be plucked. "Or that one, she's got so many jewels on her I'm surprised she can manage to stand. Or how about-"

But whoever Suigetsu would point out next, Sasuke didn't hear, because his eyes found who he'd been silently searching for. She was at the arm of that medic, Kyouta Habitsu, laughing at something the bespectacled man had said, and the Uchiha told himself he didn't care. Even so, his feet spoke volumes of how untrue that was, as they carried him away from Suigetsu's side (who abruptly stopped talking to curiously watch his partner stalk away), and right into the path of the two medics. Habitsu was first to notice his appearance, and the man's eyebrows rose, startled. "Lieutenant Himitsu," he said, with a rigid smile, "how nice of you to join us. I was just telling Tsukiko here about how-"

"You've been avoiding me," Sasuke cut in, eyes focused on the doctor.

Sakura was surprised for two reasons: one, Uchiha Sasuke had all but marched across the expanse of the ball room to confront her; and two, he looked utterly _handsome_ in his formal wear, so much so, that she nearly forgot herself in admiring him. But she recovered at once and scowled, willing her heart to get a damn hold of itself. "It's rather rude to interrupt a conversation," she quipped, "and I've been busy. Besides, we trained the other day."

"You mean four days ago? For ten minutes?" The Uchiha challenged. "You're skipping your training."

It was partly true, she had filled her schedule with working with Hiro, attempting him to remember something about his past. If there was anything she learned in the past week, it was that Hiro's amnesia was beyond the typical serious case and must have had something to do with an obstruction effectively blocking access to his memories. But as Habitsu probed into the man's head, he found nothing. The whole situation was wholly discouraging.

Aside from that, she _was_ actively avoiding encountering Sasuke at all costs – he was dangerous, her feelings for him (were they feelings? How _did_ she feel about him?) were a liability, and the fact that things had gotten so far between them (well, _physically_, and the mere thought brought a flush to her cheeks) would only make completing her mission harder. What about when she left? She couldn't simply indulge her fantasy only to be woken from it and never experiencing that devil's fruit again. That would be the worst type of torture, and the medic didn't think she could handle it. In spite of all the growing she's done, the men she's dated, the title she's made for herself in Konoha...a part of her was still ineffably drawn to him. After nearly a decade apart!

If she submitted now, who knew what it would do to her psyche?

Which was why, after Sasuke's evident _attraction_ to her, she had to maintain her distance. Even if all he wanted was sex, even if she wanted nothing more than to tear off his clothes and utterly rock his world, she refrained.

"I...you've trained me enough," Sakura answered, hand fidgeting at her side. "Habitsu, would you care to dance?" She ventured to ask, and the male medic beside her blinked in surprise, but nodded. "If you don't mind, Sasuke," she said with a smile. After a moment, he stepped to the side, allowing the two to brush by, but not before he made note of the few tanned freckles dotting the left side of her neck.

Sasuke didn't watch them walk away, instead, continuing on across the floor to pour himself a glass of wine. He hadn't forgotten his faded memories of a pink-haired girl with an affinity for sweets. But whoever Tsukiko was, it couldn't be Sakura. Sakura would never avoid him.

He downed the glass immediately and poured another.

"Careful there, I hear that stuff is strong."

Sasuke glanced to his right to see a head of blonde. "I think I can handle it," he responded, turning away.

"You know, you're not supposed to pour your own glass," the woman said before he could leave. "Would you mind?"

The Uchiha sighed and poured her wine.

"You're one of the samurai, aren't you?" The stranger observed, appraising him with her russet gaze, "I can tell because of your build. You're not scrawny or soft like the lords. You're lean. You're-"

"Not interested," the man finished, noticing the woman's voice drop an octave into something that was clearly supposed to be alluring and knowing that was his cue to nip it in the bud. She visibly pouted, but settled for taking her glass from him. Sasuke was about to walk away, but something in the back of his mind asked him _Why? Why turn her away?_ _Are you holding out for someone else?_ The Uchiha scowled at the taunting thought and set his empty glass down. "Fine. Let's dance."

Her glee was evident, and he led her to the floor, not at all paying attention to the annoying medic and the man whose arms she was in.

The night wore on in a similar fashion, Sasuke and Sakura each notably _ignoring_ the other, drinking their wine, enjoying the evening otherwise. Sakura had the pleasure of meeting a snow-haired man with teeth similar to fangs – Sasuke's partner, apparently. At first she was worried that he recognized her from their previous encounters, but the man betrayed nothing of the sort. He was the Uchiha's opposite in every way, in fact, she was reminded of her own blond teammate. Both were loud, both were funny, and both were crass. Though what Naruto lacked in womanly knowledge, Suigetsu made up for tenfold. He was, dare-she-say, a well-versed flirt.

"You've done an amazing job, you know," he said with a grin as he led her about the marble floor, pausing only to twirl her around, exerting a laugh from the medic. "I've heard the men are all better."

Sakura shrugged, eyes looking away. "They're still in their comas," she said, but her counterpart shook his head.

"You managed to stop it from spreading. That, in itself, is commendable. If Susanoo's done anything right, it was bringing you to lighten up our fortress."

She smiled.

"Now, what's this I hear about you and Sasuke?"

Her smile disappeared. "Ugh. He's..._ugh_."

Suigetsu chuckled, "Yes. I get that. But you have to understand that though he is rather distant, the affection he's shown towards you is very strange."

"Affection?" Sakura snorted in a most unlady-like manner coercing a laugh from the slate-haired samurai.

"_Interest_, then," Suigetsu amended with that half smile of his. "The only interests he's shown in women was for relief. And even _that_ is few and far between. And never a repeat."

Sakura wasn't sure what to do with that information.

As the current song came to an end, Suigetsu leaned in so near she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead his lips moved into the tendrils of her curled hair. "Nice to see you again, Sakura," he whispered.

She froze in his hold, and he laughed, moving away. "Don't worry. I won't tell." Something in his grin made her want to trust him, but the medic was instantly wary. How did he...? Did Sasuke know? As if reading her mind, the shinobi shook his head and gestured for her to join him for some wine and privacy. "No, that idiot doesn't know. He's good with his speed and his chakra detection and his power, and sure, some say he's easy on the eyes, but Sasuke doesn't pay attention to a person's face. He pays attention to their power, their chakra signature, their usefulness." They reached the long, white linen cloth covered table that bore the wine, other beverages, and snacks, and Suigetsu poured his partner a glass of the burgundy richness. "I, however, appreciate beauty. I would recognize your face anywhere." The ensuing smile he gave her was sincere. Sakura took the proffered wine, unsure of how she felt about Suigetsu's theory. "Don't look so glum! I'm sure if you weren't so excellent at masking your chakra, he would have known it was you immediately!"

Thank goodness for the musical entertainment drowning out his words. Sakura poured him a glass in turn and they rose their cups in cheers to a brighter future. As she drank, she wondered just what bright future Suigetsu (and Sasuke) had in mind.

"Stoic bastard, three o'clock," Suigetsu muttered near Sakura's ear.

She almost jumped at the warmth of his voice spreading down her neck. The woman managed to recover just in time to greet the incoming Uchiha. "Sasuke," she said politely enough, though her voice lacked warmth. "Where is that lovely woman you were dancing with?"

Sasuke looked at her, expression unreadable. "You could care less for her whereabouts."

Cue awkward silence.

Suigetsu coughed. "Well, I guess I've got other things I should be doing right now," he said, giving Sasuke a knowing look before leaving the two alone.

Sasuke could have _killed_ him, but instead, he eyed the few freckles dotting the left side of the medic's neck. From her clavicle, up to her ear. He decided the one freckle on her earlobe was a visual interest. _Cute, you mean_, his treacherous mind supplied, a thought the Uchiha did his best to obliterate. Before he realized it, his fingers reached out to brush against her collar bone, then along the edge of her neck – her skin was soft, damp from the light sheen of sweat. An entirely wine-induced gesture. Or so he told himself.

"Sasuke?"

"Dance with me," he implored, extending his hand for her to take. Nevermind that he had only ever danced twice in his life prior (neither occasion a particularly good memory) but he allowed the momentary intoxication of her smile, her freckles, her green - _so green_ \- eyes to overwhelm his better senses. Briefly, he was reminded of spring, of _her_, a future he had turned his back on. He could have this, just this one night, he could pretend, and the dance was simple enough, and perhaps those other women - his _partners_, both for dancing and in the bed - were just practice. The smirk he gave her was thick with empty promises of something that both knew could never come to fruition, but that didn't seem to matter, not when the sight of her wide, startled eyes made a languid heat pool in his stomach._  
_

Sakura found it impossible to refuse. The pads of his fingers left a tingling sensation on her skin and the cloudiness in his eyes obscured the storm that normally brewed behind them. He was looking at her in a way he had never done so before, like she had emerged straight out of his dreams. She gave him that slanted smile of hers and placed her hand in his.

And they were off.

It was impossible to say how much wine he drank, but it was clear that it was sufficient to loosen him up to the possibility of admitting this was what he wanted. Sasuke had attended the ball with the intention of usurping Susanoo's power, but when he saw her twirling across the floor with Suigetsu of all people, Sasuke decided it was pointless for him to perpetuate his frustration. Why not indulge? It was a time for celebration, afterall.

When he spun her, she laughed, and he grinned at the sound, wondering at her agility, her grace, and if he taught her that, or if it was in her all along. He didn't care. They moved across the dance floor in time to the fast paced music. Everything was vibrant and lavish and joyful and he couldn't remember a time in his life where things were so _easy_ and exciting in a sense aside from murder and missions. This was different. It was entirely celebratory, entirely luxurious, and he would revel in it for as long as he could.

After that night, things would change. Everything would change. He would assassinate the lord, dispose of Mifune, the Second-in-Command of leadership, and then take the title of Lord of the Land of Iron for himself.

He would set the country straight.

But for now he could enjoy this, because who knew when he'd ever have the chance again. Perhaps it was the wine talking, or maybe Suigetsu finally got into his head – _Learn to live a little, Sasuke. You never know when your chance will be up_. He smirked, and he found he liked the color in the medic's cheeks whenever he did so. The effect did something similar to him, though rather than his face, his blood rushed _elsewhere_.

A portion of the song signaled the males to lift their partners in the air, and he did so, easily clasping the woman about her waist and lifting her up. Sakura leaned her head back, arms spread out, and closed her eyes. That time, instead of setting her down at once to resume their dance, he held onto her, and she looked down at the Uchiha whose dark eyes spoke volumes of an unidentifiable intensity. He lowered her slowly, allowing her body to slide down his torso. Her hands rested on his shoulders, and cupped the side of his face as her forehead met his, her feet still off the marble beneath them.

He studied her face then, the greenness of her eyes, the curl of her lashes, the slightly cracked dryness of her parted lips, arms still wrapped tightly about her waist, lowering her until her shoes were steadied on the floor. The rise and fall of her chest pressed against his, and frivolous thoughts of heated kisses, sweat-drenched limbs, the dampness of her womanhood, the fire behind her touches, plagued his mind.

They were stock-still, simply drinking each other up with their gazes. A cloud of unspoken words rose between them, around them, ensconcing the duo in a private mist that blinded them to the countless other partners orbiting their presence.

"Is something wrong?" Sakura asked, knowing _nothing_ was wrong, and everything was actually oh-so _right_.

"I don't know," Sasuke answered, for the first time in a long time unsure of what to say.

The music came to an end, and the echoing _clink-clink-clink_ of glassware alerted the guests to the host standing at the head table, with General Mifune at his right. Lord Watatsumi was certainly a sight, his long dark hair pulled back and away from his face, his chiseled face smiling at his guests. "I am honored that you were able to attend this evening. Please, eat, drink, be merry! But let us not forget the reason for our gathering here tonight. We are here to commend our strong, brave, samurai for their success in overcoming the invading troops of Lightning Country!"

Applause drowned out his next few words, and he paused lifting a hand to calm the crowd.

"Unfortunately, we have reason to believe they will continue to attack with stronger forces, and a fraction of our samurai are indisposed. I have brought you all here tonight to ask for help in supporting our samurai – help them help us. If you so wish to become a benefactor, I would be forever in your debt," he closed, bowing his head ever so slightly at the noblemen.

Scattered murmuring could be heard, and he cued the music to pick up again. To his right, Mifune waved a hand at the generous people. "A little over-the-top, don't you think?" He muttered.

Susanoo, smile still plastered on his face, shook his head. "These are people who hold their own pride above all. I have to play the humble card. We need their monetary support to pay for enough weaponry, armor, and supplies for your men. If we're to invade Lightning Country soon, we have to expedite the process. Their defenses will only be down for so long. That old hag as their Raikage won't last long. Soon he'll have to choose a new one – we must act before a younger, stronger shinobi takes his place."

Green eyes followed the exchange, reading their lips with practiced ease.

Sakura had been in Iron Country for the better part of a month, and she had gathered enough evidence that Susanoo was building and honing his samurai army to attack other Shinobi Villages. His ambush on the Lightning Country shinobi was proof of that. There was a war coming, and he had the numbers and, soon, the funds to battle for months. Pandering to the nobles of his land confirmed this. She had to return to Konoha and warn the Hokage.

"Tsukiko?"

Her gaze returned to the Uchiha before her, and her eyes widened. Whatever dreamy facade they had shared in the midst of the festivities melted away, leaving behind a hardened face and suspicious eyes.

"I have to go," Sakura said, excusing herself from him. She _had_ to go. She had to leave. That night was the perfect moment to do so, while everyone was distracted. She hadn't expected to escape so soon – she would have liked to bid Nine farewell, but thought better of it. Afterall, she didn't want to reveal anything to the young girl, lest she be accused of harboring a kunoichi. "I'm sorry, I'll be back," she lied.

Sasuke refrained from stopping her.

It was time to act.

* * *

**author's notes:  
**

_o1._ Nothing dirty here, haha, I was planning on things maybe happening, but it took a different plot-driven turn instead so /shrugs, I went with it.

_o2_. I'm pretty tired now this chapter ended up rather long. I hope it was decent enough; please let me know what you think! Any guesses as to what's going to happen next?

_o3. _For those wondering, _yes_, Sasuke will find out (with certainty) that she is Sakura. That should be coming in the next update ; )

\- Flick


	6. Synergy

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* * *

**Operation: Nightingale**

* * *

**vi. **

_Synergy_

* * *

_._

_._

Sakura slipped out of the banquet hall undetected; a largely simple feat due to the rising inebriation of its guests and the ladies vying for Lord Susanoo's attention. The rest of the manse was remarkably quiet, and the woman took a moment to appreciate the stronghold for all its indomitable glory. Everything was either wrought-iron or multiply fortified, and she had to give it to Watatsumi: he knew how to fortify a fortress.

Without bothering to inspect the main hall, the medic knew there were sentinels standing guard – Susanoo always had people patrolling the entrance. Her best bet was to escape from the roof, and so she retired to her quarters to grab her pack and a cloak. She wished she could change her attire, but in the off-chance that she was caught, she would have to explain away far more suspicious gear; she could deal with the rather extravagant gown's set backs when she was safe in the forest, away from vigilant eyes.

She made sure the coast was clear before leaving her room again and mentally planning her route to the roof – that was her best bet of escape. The medic rushed down the hall and veered to her right, running up the staircase two steps at a time, when the torches lining the walls blew out. The chilling breeze alerted her to an open window on the landing above, and her eyes worked to adjust to the sudden darkness. Something was wrong.

Lightning flashed and illuminated her surroundings; Sakura took quick surveillance of the staircase but saw nothing out of the ordinary. She frowned and continued her ascent, only to spin around at the sound of shrill screams coming from the banquet below. The distinct clang of metal was all she needed to hear before deciding that a gift from above had granted her the perfect distraction to make her escape.

Unfortunately for her, Fate was rarely so kind.

Sakura managed to register the presence of an intruder but in her haste just barely dodged a sword. _Sword ?_ The medic ducked and shoved the body unceremoniously down the stairs, darting onto the upper landing and running down the hall. She wished she could utilize her chakra but knew it would draw too much attention from Susanoo's men. Another scream echoed throughout the fortress - "Lightning Nin! Stop them!" - and Sakura hesitated leapt up to yank down a trap door that led to the hidden attic. A ladder folded out, the thundering sound mimicking the clap booming among the clouds. Her hand reached the first rung and then a body slammed into her torso, ripping her grip apart and sending they bodies sprawling along the ground. She hissed in surprise, drawing a burst of chakra to aid her as she tossed the body from her frame.

She recognized her assailant as one of the unconscious men she was trying to save and she instantly recalled the similar situation involving her first patient: Yoshida Hiro. What the hell was going on? Before she could find out, Sakura scrambled onto her feet and maintained a defensive stance. The samurai picked himself up and drew his sword, coming towards the medic with little grace, but all the momentum of a man twice her size. Sakura deflected and threw him into a wall, knocking down a few paintings in the process.

When the body stayed down, presumably knocked out, Sakura turned back to her task at hand only to let out a gasp as she ducked to avoid the fist of yet another attacker. She charged against his torso with her shoulder and back, successfully flipping her over her back with the force and wasted no time in reaching for the ladder again. She made it a few steps up when a hand grasped her ankle - "Tsukiko!" - and she slid a rung down, knocking her chin against the cool metal. The taste of blood seeped onto her tongue, but she ignored it, instead twisting around and allowing herself to fall onto the man who had grabbed her.

She sat on his chest and withdrew a dagger but was instantly rolled onto her back as an explosive tag went off above them. Debris trickled onto her rescuer's broad back and she blinked up in shock at the sight of Sasuke. He didn't say a word as he instantly removed himself from her, directing his attention to another samurai rushing towards Sakura.

The medic briefly contemplated helping him subdue the attackers, but it was the perfect opportunity to escape, and so she leapt up once more, looking back only to see Sasuke's glare, and disappeared onto the rooftops.

She knew he would follow her, and so she wasted no time dashing across the concrete roof, preparing to leap off into the darkness, eager to feel her chakra again, when she came found herself staring at a shadowed figure in her way. Skidding to a halt the medic had a threat at the tip of her tongue, but in a flash the stranger was behind her. "No, Sakura. It's not time to go just yet."

Darkness enveloped her senses.

The man looked down at the impostor and grinned at the head of pink that replaced her dark curls. He had his suspicions that the medic wasn't who she claimed to be, and he wasn't one to forget such prominent chakra signatures. Granted, her henge was incredibly low-key, and her chakra suppression was something to be envied – but nobody had better control than he did. Not even the Hokage's precious apprentice.

He could have disposed of her, but where was the fun in that? Afterall, if he played his cards right, Sakura could prove to be a useful ally in his endeavor – the mere manner in which she had Lieutenant Uchiha wrapped around her finger could attest to that. These fools playing in a man's war; they had no idea the things he had planned. Footsteps alerted him to someone clambering up the ladder and so the medic took one last look at Sakura before disappearing in a puff of smoke.

Sasuke emerged onto the roof and was at the fallen woman's side at once. Lightning struck and he tensed at the pastel locks plastered against a suddenly familiar face.

.

.

The Uchiha stalked back and forth in his chambers, dark eyes trained on the unconscious body sprawled on his bed. She was wrapped in a warm blanket and stripped of her wet gown – a feat that Sasuke had repeatedly told himself was a necessary precaution. He couldn't _believe_ the startling rose of her hair, more-so because she had been right under his nose and he was made such a fool of. No _wonder _he felt inexplicably drawn to her. No _wonder_ those green eyes were so strikingly familiar. He growled at the thought of _her_, the fact that she dared creep her way into his life, into his _way_, and he was none the wiser. He was such an _idiot!_

Fist clenched at his side, Sasuke ceased his pacing and simply stood beside the cot, glaring at the woman who had managed to haunt the vestiges of his dreams with her fiery touches and her green, _green_ eyes.

The man growled and spun around, embedding his fist into the stone wall and managing to crack it. His knuckles came away bloodied, but that was the least of his worries. He had about a billion questions and nowhere to begin. He wasn't sure if the feeling in his chest was one of utter hatred or utter relief – perhaps it was a mixture of both. He hated the way she got under his skin: he had _danced_ with her! He had...they had..._done things_. Now it all seemed so _pointless_, and he banished whatever frivolous thoughts he ever held for the woman. Or he tried to.

She was _still_ so annoying.

The woman stirred and Sasuke tensed, eyes scrutinizing every feature of her face. Nothing had changed except her hair – was he _that_ obtuse regarding faces? He supposed that all he had ever known of Sakura was her pink hair and inordinate obsession with _saving_ him. When was the last time he ever truly looked at her face? At the way her jaw was distinct and her chin was sharp and her cheeks were round and flushed. _Stop it_, he ordered himself.

A groan escaped her lips and Sasuke's eyes flew to her parted mouth, faintly recalling the taste of her kisses, the eagerness of her tongue, the way she was _fire_ in his arms-

Suddenly she gasped for air and sat up in the cot, leaning over the edge of the bed as though ready to release the contents of her stomach.

Sakura doubled over, breath ragged, mind going a mile a minute. The last thing she remembered was encountering someone on the roof who knew her true identity and the young woman felt like retching at the reality of it. That was, until she realized _just_ where she was and who was watching. Slowly, she straightened up on the cot and turned to meet the eyes of the Uchiha. She faced him as herself for the first time in seven years and she was unsure of what to say. _Hey, Sasuke, long time no see? _Or perhaps, _Oh, Sasuke, I hadn't realized your prowess in the sack_. She felt her heart threaten to beat right out of her chest as he regarded her silently, obviously expecting her to speak first.

"I-"

"_What_. Are you _doing_ here," he demanded, unable to contain his rage.

The medic wondered if he would reveal her to Susanoo. But she could just as easily reveal him. Who would they trust? That wasn't a gamble she was willing to take, afterall, Tsunade had warned her not to allow anyone to make the connection to Konoha. And there they were, two rather well known Konoha nin.

"I'm investigating the illness-"

"Dammit, Sakura," Sasuke cut in, leaning forward to kneel on the bed and grasp the woman's arms, pinning them to her side. "What the fuck are you doing here?" He felt the intense urge to shake her until the answers tumbled out of her brain, but refrained.

She could feel his fingers bruising her skin and she met his accusing gaze head on. "I'm on a mission, Sasuke. What else would I be doing here?" The woman answered evenly, instructing herself to breath steadily and not let her previous encounters with this very same man quicken her heart rate.

Sasuke released her and got off the bed, pacing the width of his chambers. "You're an idiot. You should have left when you had the chance," he admonished. "Who knows what they'll do if they find out?"

"Why didn't you just let me go, then?" She challenged, halting his pace.

The Uchiha glared, "Because you were dumb enough to get knocked out."

Sakura met his fierce gaze. "You had no reason to save me," she pointed out.

His dark eyes were unyielding as he took account of her: the tangled pink strands, the relentless nature in her stare, the way the sheets were wrapped oh-so-precariously around her torso to hint at the valley upon her chest. He turned away, fixing his eyes on the door. "I wasn't sure what to make of your presence here," Sasuke answered. Which was the truth; he had no idea who else was there, what her discovery might spark, and yes, a part of him wanted answers. Perhaps answers she couldn't even give. But he still wanted them because he was selfish – always so selfish. The man fisted his hand.

"What are you going to do with me," she said from the cot. There was such restraint in her voice and Sasuke _knew_ she was withholding something more. Whatever it was hung over them like a weight, but she didn't continue.

He turned then, slowly, purposefully. "I could kill you," was his plain reply.

Sakura scoffed. "You would have already."

"Maybe I wanted some answers first," Sasuke pointed out, once again feeling his gaze drop along the curve of her neck, the ridge of her collar, and down to the supple mounds of her-_Stop_. He forced himself to meet her eyes. "What are you doing here?" Silence met his demand, but he wasn't so easily broken. "I could easily get that information with the Sharingan, you know," he threatened.

Sakura looked affronted at the suggestion – as if he had any decency left in him at that point. "I was simply gathering information on Susanoo's movements," she answered through clenched teeth. "What does it matter to you? Your agenda, or whatever the hell you're doing here, remains unaffected, _Himitsu Sasuke_."

"You don't know my agenda," he commented wryly.

Sakura rolled her eyes, ever the _annoying_ woman, and rose to her feet, clutching the sheets to her form as plenty of his previous conquests had done after a night of deliriously passionate love-making. "I'm going home," she proclaimed with the dignity of a woman who wasn't bare in his quarters. She tried not to dwell on the fact that her gown was in tatters on his floor, though the fact brought a dusting of redness to her face. "I won't tell anyone you're here," she added, as a form of assurance.

When the Uchiha said nothing, she moved towards him, towards the door, planning to simply pretend she had given herself to his carnal needs should others ask questions as to her state of undress. But he didn't budge as she approached. "Sasuke-" she prompted, but his frown deepened.

"You're not going anywhere," was his adamant response.

A scowl settled itself over her face and she reached for the door. He grabbed her wrist and pinned her against it instead, the force coercing a breath of surprise from the medic. "What do you want, Sasuke?" She challenged, feeling the heat from his proximity trigger something in her gut, something _feral_ and _animal_ and _familiar_.

What _did_ he want? Not even he was certain. It would have been simple to let her go; it would have been simple to kill her. But to decide what to do was frustrating. All these thoughts, all these scenarios came unbidden to his head: Sakura getting murdered, Sakura returning to Konoha and betraying his location, Sakura lying on her back with her shapely legs propped up on his shoulders—he obliterated the stray image, but not before it burned itself in his mind's eye.

"What do you want, Sasuke," she repeated, voice softer, as she watched the tempest brewing in his gaze. She had seen that confusion before, the frustration. "All you have to do is let me go and I'll be gone and you'll forget all about me," Sakura said in earnest, coaxing, gentle.

Was that what he wanted? He could risk her revealing his presence in Iron Country. It seemed the only logical thing was – what? Keep her prisoner there as Tsukiko? It was far too much effort. And yet...

A sharp jab at his ribs knocked the wind right out of him and Sasuke stumbled back. The turn of a knob was all Sakura managed before he moved in front of her to block the exit and lock the door. She was glaring at him with those pretty green eyes and he felt whatever patience he had rapidly waning.

"You coward," Sakura hissed as she watched him press his back against the door. "Hiding here all these years. Running away from home like a child. What's keeping you from Konoha, Sasuke? The fear? Your pride? You're the worst kind of person, you know that? You think you know what's best for yourself when all your solitude has ever gotten was...was this. Hiding among the ranks of Susanoo's men. Is this your new home, Sasuke? Is this the next place you plan on making bonds and that savagely throwing them a-"

He swallowed her last words with a kiss, slanting his mouth over hers when she protested. If she had pushed him away he would have released her, but she didn't, and so he allowed himself to reacquaint his tongue with the cave of her enticing mouth. The restrained desire broke through its metaphorical dam and the Uchiha fell prey to the utter rush of it, unable to surface from wave after wave of pleasure. Something in him growled at the way she responded in kind, hands tracing up his shoulders before coming together at the base of his neck where she pulled him into her further.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sakura was well aware of the stupidity of what they were doing but she didn't quite care. Not when his hands left her arms to wrap fully around her form, his fingers ghosting over the exposed skin of her back leaving trails of blazing fire in their wake.

Their bodies pressed together held the sheets covering her in place, but Sasuke was far more interested in the curve of her spine, the sharpness of her shoulder blades, and the damp locks coiled against her shoulders. And then he was moving forward, urging her to walk back until the backs of her calves met the cot and she could have sworn she felt his lips widen in a smirk as he pushed her down, making sure to yank away the blankets in the process.

The cold air hit her torso and the medic gasped at the sensation. He was on her at once, sparing no moment to revere her form; the firmness of a kunoichi was not something he had seen or felt in _years_ and damn did he prefer it. Sasuke enveloped her in his warmth, feeling every hill and valley of her front, hands trailing up from the swell of her hips to the dip of her waist, all the way up her side before allowing his fingers to tangle into her damp hair. Sakura arched her back into his hold, molding with his frame, and he growled against her mouth, trailing lips down her jaw, her neck, her collar. Her lashes fluttered at the feeling, and he continued his exploration of her body, laying kiss after kiss to the dip between her breasts that had tortured him during their entire exchange.

Sakura's hands found his dark hair and she tugged him to meet her eyes. What he saw there only served to excite him further: the clouded desire, the sensual haze, he relished in it, before proceeding to take her nipple into his mouth. She sucked in a breath of air and raked her nails down the nape of his neck, pressing herself further into his lips. He felt her nipple harden against his tongue and he took pleasure from it, groaning against her skin, at the way she writhed beneath him, more than willing to partake of what he had to offer.

Sasuke was more than willing to oblige-

"Sasuke!"

-_No_.

"Sasuke, bastard, open up!"

The two froze and watched each other intensely, their breaths equally ragged, faces equally red; minds registering just _what_ they were doing.

"Don't make me break down the door-"

Sasuke pushed himself away from the bare woman and stalked to the door, making sure Sakura was decent and properly a brunette once more before daring to open it. Suigetsu's smirk greeted him and he resisted the urge to deliver a sound punch.

"Finally, geez, it's like you're decrepit or some-" his golden eyes flckered behind the Uchiha to the woman sitting on the bed and his smile widened knowinngly, "oh, _hey_, Tsukiko. Sorry guys, didn't know you were _busy_."

.

.

Twenty minutes later found the trio seated in Sasuke's room, Suigetsu filling them in on the events of the evening (and sporting a puffy, darkening eye). Apparently, Lightning Country ambushed the banquet – as though they _knew_ it was happening, and murdered many of the prominent guests in attendance. "They came and left as quickly as, well, lightning," the pale-haired man said, glancing at Sakura every now and then. "So, what happened to you two?" He leered.

"Samurai attacked me," Sakura said, recalling the earlier assaults. "The ones that are unconscious. It was like when Hiro tried to kill me. I have no idea what's prompting them to do so...do you think that's related to Lightning Country's attack?" She mused, glancing over at Suigetsu. "What happened to them?"

The man scoffed, "Well it turns out that you did a number on them. Two were dead. The other four are in the exact same state as Hiro – complete and utter amnesia." And then he shook his head and eyed the tousle-haired duo knowingly. "But what I meant was, what _happened_ to _you two_?" His toothy grin earned him another smack, this time from Sakura. "Geez, I was just asking. Not that it wasn't quite obvious already."

Sakura reddened and Sasuke studied a rather interesting portion of the ceiling.

"Anyways, the fortress was in chaos. Everyone's looking for you, by the way," he said, glancing over at the medic, "but don't worry. I'll let them all know you're in...safe hands." He barely dodged another swing as he all but danced to the door. "Later, lovebirds."

Sasuke blanched at the term: _lovebirds?_

Sakura cleared her throat. "Well, what now?" She said, unsure of what to do. Sasuke frowned at her dark hair and had quite a list of things that they _could_ do, but settled for a shrug.

"I suppose, continue as we have been. You're not leaving." There was a finality in his tone that made her gaze jump to meet his. "I won't let you. You know too much, you're a liability. You are to remain here – as Tsukiko – until a time comes when allowing you to leave presents itself."

"And if it never comes?" She prompted as he stood to leave.

Sasuke paused at the door and peered over his shoulder, "Then I guess this is _your_ new home, too."

The door shut in time for a lamp to smash against the barricade, just missing its target, and Sakura was left to wonder at the mess she had gotten herself into.

.

.

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**author's note:**

_o1. _Wow it's been a while, but it was hard to sit back and let this fic die, simply because I had already plotted out quite a bit of it. Here's hoping I can push through whatever block I have and at least try my best to finish it? (Regardless of how awful I feel like my writing has become.)

_o2. _Sorry it's so short :( this chapter was hard to do - everything felt off and forced - and the rest of the plot sections don't quite fit into this chapter.

_o3_. Sasuke finally knows! Bahaha took long enough. More steamy goodness. Yep.

_o4._ Reviews are what convinced me to continue this story, so they'll likely keep me motivated (hopefully) /hinthint.

_o5._ For those who are also KakaSaku fans, I have a new fic up for them - **Stupefied****_ \- _**you can thank it for my attempt at finishing Op: Nightingale, that's what got me back into writing in the first place ;) /shamelessplug


	7. Unraveling

**author's note: **I am floored by the reception of this story so far! I can't thank you guys enough for your support as this story was put on a hiatus and was likely to remain in the deep dark depths of Discontinued-Ville. The plot has been worked out about 90% of the way, and I need to tie up some loose ends, but you can certainly expect this story to reach its eventual end :) It's not going to be a particularly long one, perhaps somewhere 10 chapters or so depending on how the plot progresses. This chapter practically wrote itself so it's hard for me to dictate how much actual plot progression goes into each update.

Also, I constantly edit and re-edit my chapters. Not the content, but grammar and spelling and even diction here and there. I always seem to miss errors or find a phrase that doesn't sit well with me no matter how often I read and re-read chapters. I apologize if I missed some! Anyhow, hope you lovely readers enjoy :)

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**Operation: Nightingale**

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**vii.**

_Unraveling_

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_._

_._

The following morning brought with it rumors floating about the complex that involved a certain dark-haired samurai and a civilian doctor; needless to say, Sakura was receiving quite the attention as she wandered the halls. Eyes followed her as she passed by, maids whispering, attendants assuming. She did her best to maintain a professional air – what she did on her own time was _her_ business. There were no rules that said she wasn't allowed to fraternize with the soldiers (or anyone, for that matter).

Perhaps the worst part was the fact that she and Sasuke _hadn't _done anything, at least in the sense that people found it in their right to presume. A part of her felt guilty for having done _anything _with Sasuke at all. She tried to reason that as Tsukiko, there was a liberation; there were no consequences. Sasuke seemed to have been as piqued by her as she was by him but there was a freedom and mystery behind it. Now that he knew who she really was...well...it made their prior interactions feel emptier. Sakura couldn't explain to herself why, maybe there was no rhyme nor reason to it. But the magic was gone, as if she suddenly woke up from a dream.

It didn't help that Sasuke was being a total ass. She rolled her eyes at the mere thought of him and the glare he had fixed her with when he _ordered_ her to maintain appearances as Tsukiko. As if he had any control over her mission and decision-making! Yet there she was the next day, pretending nothing had changed, dark curls and all.

The banquet hall was a disaster, a far cry from the grandeur that took place the previous evening. Upon walking in, Sakura tensed at the overwhelming stench of _blood_. Over the course of the night, servants cleared out the destroyed furniture and most of the shattered glass, but the bodies remained. Sakura surveyed the scene, alarmed at the sheer inhumanity of the ambush.

"They were tipped off."

Green eyes flickered to the entrance to find Habitsu and she inclined her head in a silent question.

The medic-nin ventured into the hall, raking a hand through his hair. "What a convenient night for an attack, don't you think?" He elaborated, meandering around her, studying the corpses littering the marble floor. There was an imperturbable aura about him that betrayed his years of experience on the battle field. "Lightning Country anticipated this evening; they planned for it. Someone on the inside, on _our_ side, let slip that Lord Watatsumi is garnering funds to build his army." Habitsu paused then, crouching down to brush a blood-soaked strand of hair from a beautiful young woman's face. Sakura recognized her as the woman Sasuke had briefly danced with. "The question is: who?"

"Last night," Sakura began, then hesitated, searching for words. "They attacked, too. They attacked _me_. The samurai," she clarified as Habitsu straightened up and glanced in her direction.

"Yes, they attacked everyone," the man said.

_Not everyone_, Sakura determined. They hadn't attacked Sasuke. They were very visibly trying to harm _her_ and Sasuke happened to be in the way.

"I suspect that whatever the illness plaguing our men was set off by Lightning-nin," Habitsu mused. "Those men in stasis – they awoke," he told her. "I just finished with the body count of the men we have remaining. They are locked up in their cells, of course, despite having no memory whatsoever."

"Was that our doing?" Sakura murmured, her voice echoing off the walls.

Habitsu shrugged, a sigh fleeing from his lips. "If activating this strange...reaction from the men was what the Lightning-nin wanted, then I fear we played right into their trap." There was a frustration beneath his words, cracking his otherwise calm facade. "I suppose we'll never know what might have happened if they remained in stasis. Would they have attacked if I didn't use my chakra to revive their flow?" At this point his voice pitched higher belying his guilt, and Sakura found herself moving forward to reach him.

"That was _not_ your fault, Habitsu," she assured him. "You are a talented medic and there was no way we could have known what would happen."

The man offered a slanted smile. It was more for her than for himself. He pressed his wrists into his eyes, one at a time, brushing the tears away, shoving his glasses up into his hair. "Lord Watatsumi trusted me with this. You trusted me with this. I can't help but feel responsible," he exhaled. "I'm sorry, Tsukiko."

Sakura felt her chest constrict at his remorse and reached forward to fixe his glasses upon the bridge of his nose. "You have _nothing_ to apologize for," she said quietly.

"Tsukiko." The deep timbre resonated off the silent walls.

Sakura turned to greet its owner. "Susanoo."

"In my office," he said. "Now."

The hesitation must have been clear in her face because before she could go, Habitsu grabbed her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "He's not angry with you. He's just angry. It'll be fine."

Somehow, those words gave her assurance she hadn't realized she sorely needed.

.

.

"_Ow! Shit,_ Sasuke, what the hell is the matter with you?" Suigetsu dropped his weapon, free hand jumping to the gushing wound on his arm. Blood seeped between his fingers. "Take it easy!"

The Uchiha only fixed him with a glare. "Pick up your sword."

The sleet-haired man scoffed, dropping onto the cold stone floor in obvious rebellion. "You're being such an _ass,_" he groused, using his teeth to tear off a part of his shirt. "Quit taking your anger out on poor unsuspecting friends. Why don't you just go talk to her?" Suigetsu added, wrapping the torn cloth about his forearm and knowing it would do little to stem the blood flow.

Sasuke's eyes darkened at the insinuation that there was anything _wrong_ and that if there was, it had to do with _her_. He stalked over to his counterpart's fallen blade, picked it up, and promptly handed it to the man. "Talk to _who_?" He said plainly.

Suigetsu didn't miss the fact that he failed to disregard their friendship, and took the opportunity to be a _true_ friend. Picking himself up the floor, he pushed aside the weapon. "I can't train with you if I'm injured, _idiot_," - Suigetsu relished the look of utter surprise on the Uchiha's face - "I'll find _Tsukiko_ and have her clean this up. Actually, do you think you could go find her? I'm feeling rather faint." To emphasize this point, he wobbled rather dramatically on his feet.

The Uchiha's scowl deepened, but he turned on his heel and marched away.

He had absolutely no intention of going to retrieve _Tsukiko_ – his mind sneered the name – but Sasuke certainly couldn't stand to argue with his contentious, ill-informed _friend_. Sakura was the last person he needed to see, particularly after their last encounter. Not that it had been unpleasant, in fact, it had been far _too_ pleasant, and maybe that was acceptable when they were at each others' throats (literally and figuratively), but not now that the sensual dust had settled and their situation was made very clear.

Sakura didn't take too kindly to him meddling with her mission.

But he couldn't just let her leave, prance back to Konoha, and reveal to his abandoned village that he was in cahoots with a megalomaniac who wanted to start the next Shinobi War! An impatient growl left his mouth at the sheer frustration of it all and he stormed to his quarters, slamming the door behind him. He also couldn't just _keep_ her there; eventually Susanoo would reprieve her of her duties and what would he do _then_? Kill her? It was a laughable thought. As if he could muster the will power to do such a thing.

Perhaps, years ago, it had been something he might have had the capacity to do – guilt-ridden as he would be afterwards. He had long reconciled with the fact that he was, as Suigetsu often said, a total _jackass_ back then. Now he was just an _ass_. An ass who couldn't justify killing a girl who got caught up in his plans.

Sasuke sighed, leaning back against his door and sliding down to the ground, staring absently at the rumpled sheets of his cot. Sheets that had been wrapped around taut skin and firm muscles and enticing curves – _Stop_. It was strange to think of Sakura in such a way. That on its own was an obtrusive thought and Sasuke wondered at his unease. He couldn't, for the life of him, figure out _why _Sakura's ploy irritated him, he just knew that it _did_.

It could have been any number of reasons: her skill, his credulous acceptance of her _lies_, the fact that it was _Sakura, _his former teammate, a woman who knew him at his worst, someone who, at one point in her life, _loved _him. And damn him if he didn't entertain sordid fantasies of that same woman. He was mortified.

Partly because it wasn't just some attractive, mysterious, civilian doctor – it was _Haruno Sakura_, giant forehead, burning temper, and all. And partly because his being fooled by her changed absolutely everything; how astute was Sasuke _really?_ When he couldn't even recognize his old teammate? Did he always have that inability to simply recognize _people_?

Sasuke closed his eyes, tilting his head back against the door. When he thought of Sakura, it was pink hair and soft hands and green eyes. When he thought of Naruto it was all orange and loud and made him man cringe. When he thought of any prominent person he had ever encountered in his life, it always included the feel of their chakra, their notable accomplishments, but like hell if he could recall the contours of anyone's face. The Uchiha sighed, the sound the epitome of frustration.

And then there was the fact that Haruno Sakura enticed him in ways that affected him _far_ too much for his comfort. He groaned at the thought, already feeling uncomfortable in daring to ponder his previous lewd day dreams. It didn't help that they were rudely _interrupted_.

Sasuke stood, deciding to remedy the situation.

.

.

Sakura lifted her hand and rapped on the door once, twice, before the rough response greeted her. She pushed into the office, finding Susanoo seated in a large leather chair. Scrolls were unraveled before him, his cloak hanging half on the chair's back, half on the ground. The candle on his desk flickered at her intrusion, casting murderous shadows across the lord's face. She cleared her throat and moved to stand before him. "Lord Susanoo," she said, all formality and grace.

He met her eyes, the fury in his gaze giving way to fatigue. "I am glad you weren't harmed," the man declared, voice hoarse. It occurred to Sakura then that he was likely up all night, not only worrying about his guests, but also his men and the state of his manor. "I...I apologize for putting your life in such danger. Habitsu alerted me to his theories regarding the enemy shinobi and the state of my ill samurai. I suppose at this point, there is not much you can do."

She felt something in her swell at his words. Was he relieving her of her duties?

"But you must understand, our current state of affairs leaves it far too dangerous for you to leave the grounds," the man continued, brushing a large, calloused hand through his hair. His fingers caught on tangles, and he ceased the movement, simply dropping his arm at his side. "I will not allow any more harm to come to anyone under my watch," Susanoo admonished with renewed vigor.

"I'm sure I'll be fine-"

"Tsukiko." His tone was enough to silence her. "You have no idea how dangerous these men are. They will attack anything that leaves the manor. You will remain here until a safe opportunity permits your leave. But from now on you are staying as an honored guest, not as a hired doctor."

Sakura wrung her hands together to avoid fisting them at her sides. "I understand," she answered . Before she turned to leave however, an idea struck. "May I update my village to let them know the status here?"

Susanoo considered it, but shook his head. "It is too, soon. We don't know if the Lightning-nin will intercept such messages-"

"And if they do? There won't be anything of importance. Just that we are being cautious and I will return home soon," the woman persuaded.

He regarded her then, deliberating the risk, before shaking his head. "Alright."

Sakura grinned as she walked out of the office.

She wasted no time in heading to the messenger tower, formulating a succinct message to send home. She took the stairs two at a time, momentum moving her so quickly that, as she turned a sharp corner, she bull-rushed right into a petite young woman, sending them both tumbling to the cold ground. Sakura, in all her kunoichi grace, managed to roll out of the fall. The young woman, however, fell rather unceremoniously on her bottom.

"Sorry-" The medic muttered, sweeping her locks out of her hair only to see a pair of wonderfully _gray_ eyes glaring back.

"Sir Himitsu will be most displeased if this fall has marred my flesh," the woman said haughtily.

Sakura had the decency to look sheepish and prepared to continue on her trek, but something made her pause. "Sir Himitsu?" She echoed after the slender woman.

"Yes, he has requested my _presence_," the young woman answered, arching a single elegant brow the medic's way. "Perhaps he was left unsatisfied from the previous night," the concubine added, adjusting her cloak that covered nothing but a silk slip. She sauntered away, around the corner, and Sakura told herself not to dwell on the boiling fury deep within. What did it matter that Sasuke had called for a concubine? Neither one of them had been satisfied, afterall.

Forcing the thought – and all the hurt and resentment and shame that came with it – aside, Sakura ascended the winding steps of the Communications Tower. Several cages lined the walls, within which hawks of various sizes and colors were perched as they watched the intruder through vigilant, intelligent eyes. She eyed them briefly, before crossing the room to a wooden desk in the center of the chamber. Rolls of parchment were at her disposal, but she only needed a small piece, scrawling a neat, concise message: _Iron Country is preparing for war._

It was terse and inconspicuous; if Lightning read her message, they would simply realize a covert shinobi was stationed at the stronghold and sending word to their hidden village for back-up. And if they don't intercept her message? Konoha would gain the upper-hand and be able to mobilize their shinobi to aid Lightning Country in suppressing Iron's warring effort.

Satisfied, she rolled up the paper and spun around, ready to attach it to one of the many available hawks, only to come face to face with an unimpressed, dark-haired, Uchiha. To say she was surprised was an understatement, as the sight of him stole a gasp from her lips.

His eyes narrowed at her shock. "What are you doing," he deadpanned, ever the impenetrable wall of detachment.

Sakura composed herself and lifted a defiant chin. "Get out of my way, Sasuke." The intention in her voice was clear: _You can't stop me_.

Sasuke, for all his effort to remain impassive, took a breath so deep that when he exhaled, the heat fanned across the young woman's face. Briefly, she recalled transient touches and metaphorical fireworks, but willed the memory away.

"You're not sending anything anywhere. Go back down." There was no room for discussion.

The medic only shrugged her shoulder, placing a firm hand on his chest. Beneath her palm she felt him tense, but he remained still. _"_I see you made quick work of your guest," she said off-handedly, before using just enough chakra to give the man a noticeable shove backwards. He barely stumbled back from the force, and she side-stepped his looming presence.

He had the decency to look uncomfortable at her insinuation. "That is none of your concern," Sasuke insisted, though there was a considerable redness creeping at the nape of his neck. "Give me that message," he implored, grabbing her wrist. The electric current that shot through their arms struck the duo to their cores.

Sakura tensed at his hold, ignoring the very acute points of contact from each of his fingers, and turned to him with such an obstinate look that she practically growled, "_Make me_."

At her obvious disdain, Sasuke had to ask himself why it was so hard for him to let Sakura leave. Surely it would be much easier to simply let her go off on her way than to fight an innocuous albeit exacerbating battle of dominance. It was easy to write his hesitation off as protecting himself and his whereabouts, but somehow he _trusted_ that Sakura wouldn't betray his residency in Iron Country to Konoha. And what did that say about her? That she still loved him? Did a deep, miniscule part of him still truly believe that she loved him enough to keep his secret? Perhaps not in the same manner she did before, or else she would _gladly_ stay with him, but loved him enough – just enough – to maintain what little trust he had in her?

Sakura wrenched herself from his grip and marched with a purpose to the nearest cage. "You haven't changed at all have you?" She accused, coaxing a hawk towards her to insert her scroll into its courier tube. "Still going about, ordering people around, acting in regards to what's best for _you_ not bothering to stop and think what's best for _everyone_. As selfish as I remem-"

She could detect his nearness even without chakra; his breath seeping into her hair was enough of an indication. Sakura didn't move as he stood directly behind her, mouth nearly brushing the crown of her dark locks. "You have _no_ idea what I've been through and _no_ possible understanding of the gravity of my family's history. How _dare_ you call me selfish," there was an edge to his soft-spoken tirade that belied regret Sakura thought him too proud to ever express. "You were always so blinded by your own lives. All too busy thinking about what was best for Konoha, or thinking about your _precious_ Team Seven to realize what _I _had to go through, the _burden_ I had to shoulder." If he had maintained detachment before, it was entirely spent; his shoulders heaved with his restraint. How _dare_ this woman go around _assuming_ she knew anything about his life, about his destiny.

"How...you..." Sakura closed her eyes, forcing herself to calm the building rage within her. "_No one_ made you go through all that alone," was her acidulous reply. "You made that for yourself, you _chose_ this path of loneliness, of selfishness. We wanted to share your burden, Sasuke. All we wanted was for you to-"

His lips pressed ever-so-slightly into her hair and Sakura's eyes opened at the gesture.

When he spoke it was barely a whisper, as if he was reminding _himself _why he chose the path he did. "I could never have tainted you and Naruto that way. I'm an Uchiha – we bear the Curse of Hatred. It wasn't something I could ever pass on to anyone else. No one deserves that kind of fate."

Sakura reveled in the heat of his words, the way his sigh crept down her neck, sending ripples of sheer pleasure down to her toes. And then a single hand traced up her arm – a ghost of a touch – before resting on her shoulder. She withstood the urge to lean her cheek against his knuckles.

"_Sakura_," his deep voice rumbled. The sound emerged from his chest. He said it like a request, but for what? Understanding? Acceptance? He wasn't sure.

"What do you want, Sasuke?" She answered in kind, will-power crumbling.

"Look at me," he demanded, though it was gentle, tentative.

The medic calmed her heartbeat as best she could. "Don't you have someone waiting for you in your chambers?" She asked instead, trying and failing to sound strong.

Sasuke allowed the edge of his lip to tilt upwards, just a little. "I _did_. I sent her away."

Sakura turned to face him then, resolute and uncertain all at once. He could see the desire plain in her gaze – _So green, _his mind whispered and he didn't bother obliterating the thought.

He allowed himself to study her face, her eyes, the way her slightly dry lips were parted. His fingers grazed past her shoulder, along her clavicle, before tracing up the length of her neck, disappearing into her hair. Sasuke wasn't sure what Sakura looked like in his childhood, he wasn't sure what she looked like the various times he encountered her prior to her appearance in Iron Country, but he sure as hell would never forget her face now.

"When?" He just barely croaked out, stirring the silence, an expression in his dark eyes that Sakura had never seen.

The young woman was loathe to break this, whatever it was that they were sharing. He had traced the dips and valleys of her form, his hand had pressed against her most womanly parts, but nothing felt as intimate as that moment. "When what?"

"When did you stop loving me?" Sasuke stopped his exploration of her countenance, allowing his hand to fall away from her hair.

"I don't know," she answered sincerely, telling herself she didn't miss his touch. "I don't know if I ever did." Perhaps she did, at some point, come to terms with the fact that her love was unrequited. Perhaps she moved on. But that didn't mean she had stopped loving him entirely. That didn't mean a little tiny part of her didn't romanticize the day Sasuke would return home and finally give her what she'd told herself, convinced herself, she didn't desire. Did she _need_ him? Certainly not. Sakura was happy with her life. But the fact remained that she _wanted_ him.

"Then _stay_," the man insisted, lowering his forehead to rest against hers. _Too wide_, he recalled, though he had never really thought so. "Stay," Sasuke repeated, quieter this time. His eyes added what his voice couldn't: _with me_.

Did he mean that? Was he serious? She eyed him skeptically, unsure if it was a ploy or sincere and deciding that she simply couldn't decipher the look on his face.

What Sakura would have given for him to ask her that so many years ago. But she wasn't a little girl anymore, and though she had often dreamed of Sasuke offering that exact request, he took too long. And she couldn't wait for him. Even so, the medic couldn't seem to bring herself to deny him and instead leaned up to press her lips against his. The sensation was soft but deliberate, an apology for something she just couldn't give him. He didn't respond at her touch, but his lack of withdrawal still offered some strange form of comfort. She hovered over his mouth, calves tensed as she balanced on her toes.

For a single fleeting moment the world stopped turning, the rain stopped falling, and the two stopped breathing. Tension crackled between them, around them, obliterating all illusion of anything existing outside of then, there, _now_. Sakura could do nothing but watch him keenly, lips barely brushing, blinking only when her vision blurred, and when she did, her lashes fluttered against his cheeks. "Sasuke."

His name dropped from her lips, lacquered in doubt, uncertainty, _regret_, and his resolve - or what infinitesimal amount was left of it - shattered.

Rough, determined hands grabbed her arms and he closed the pathetic excuse of a distance between them, molding his mouth against hers and bringing the entirety of the world around them crashing down. Nothing else mattered, no one else mattered; the only thing that held some semblance of importance was the way kissing her made him feel, the way fireworks erupted in the back of his mind and even then they were nothing compared to _her_. The wildness in her response, the lack of restraint; once more he was playing with fire and damn if he didn't revel in its heat, in its energy, in its undeniable ability to consume him, all of him - his past, his wrongs, his indecencies. Fire didn't care, it devoured and liberated and - _Oh_, those were her fingers tugging at the hairs at the nape of his neck. And - _wow_ \- that was her torso pressing up into his arms, into his chest. He allowed himself to engulf her completely, hands exploring the planes of her back. Even through her tunic he could feel the heat rising between them.

Sakura allowed his leg to press between hers and she welcomed the solid muscle that greeted her thighs, eagerly pushing against him. His interest was evident and the woman couldn't help the breath of amusement that escaped her - Sasuke took the opportunity to claim her mouth, reacquainting himself with the taste of her tongue and his desire hardened between them, a reminder that _this_ was what they had coyly danced around for the past month or so and Sasuke was certain he would rip through whoever dared to interrupt. There was an unspoken agreement that they deserved this: they were selfish, unrelenting, and they _deserved_ to allow themselves to get lost in this intractable whirlwind of - what was it?

Sasuke was hesitant to call it _love_, but he supposed if he ever loved anyone, it had always been his teammates.

He was the one who pulled away; when he did, Sakura growled her displeasure, and he smirked inwardly at the flush on her face, the daze in her eyes. "My quarters," he explained, palms leaving her hair, trailing down her arms and then he reached for her hand.

The medic gripped his proffered hand and the feral smirk she gave was enough to send him over the edge.

Sasuke raced to the open window, perching on the ledge; Sakura knew instantly what he wanted. She wrapped her arms about his neck, straddling his back, and the Uchiha dropped down the side of the stone tower.

He made quick work of piggy-backing the woman past the tiers and rooftops, before landing lithely on the soft earth. He didn't bother setting her down and took off towards the soldier's barracks, grip tightening about her thighs as he felt her lips meet his earlobe, and her _teeth_ graze lazily against his flesh. This woman was going to break him.

They rushed by a surprised Suigetsu before arriving at his chambers. Sasuke locked the door and unceremoniously tossed his guest onto the bed. Leave it to Sakura to make being hurled like a potato sack look sexy. But she did. He took a beat to stare at her, bewildered as her dark curls softened to pastel-colored strands, and he wondered at how he had barely spared a thought to how _unique_ it was, how unique _she _was, all along. He moved forward, discarding his coat in a fluid motion, and rested his knee on the cot between her legs, crawling across her figure like a predator laying down his prey. Except there was no fear in her gaze, no confusion or hurt or reluctance. What he saw in her green, _green_ eyes was exactly what he knew was betrayed in his own: sheer, utter, unadulterated _desire_.

Sakura couldn't recall the countless times she'd dreamed of exactly what was happening in that moment. He had emerged from her fantasies and damn her if she didn't welcome it. She'd likely never have the chance again. So the woman tilted her head back, exposing her neck to his ravenous mouth. And then his fingers - _damn,_ those nimble fingers - burned through the fabric of her tunic, massaging her breasts, kneading endlessly and coercing a pleasurable sigh from the young woman.

His lips found her neck and he left a blazing trail down her collar to her sternum, tearing her tunic in the process to expose her chest entirely to him. Without hesitation, he flicked is tongue out teasingly over the pink bud of her breast, before wrapping his mouth around it and this time she groaned at the sensation. He tucked the sound away into the back of his mind, knowing it was something he would never forget, and let his other hand slide down along the dip of her torso and over the swell of her hips.

Their joint effort sent her trousers off the edge of the cot and Sasuke pulled back, sitting on his heels, to admire the sheen of sweat on Sakura's taut skin, the toned muscles moving as she eagerly writhed beneath him. His palms pressed against her lower abdomen, pushing up along her torso, committing to memory each and every dip and valley and freckle along the way, until his fingers disappeared into her hair.

She closed her eyes at the intimacy of it; when she opened them she found herself staring into a swirl of red and black.

He claimed her gasp with a kiss. "I want to memorize you," he explained of his activated Sharingan, "I want to memorize every last detail."

Damn if that wasn't the sexiest thing she had heard anyone say.

Sakura made quick work of his clothes, savoring the feeling of his flesh against hers. Her fingers tangled into his dark locks before allowing a stray hand to drop down, finger tips ghosting along his silhouette, and brushing against his arousal. He groaned at the warmth of her palm, hips instinctively thrusting into it. She gripped him then, drawing a moan from his lips, and began guiding his member to her warmth.

Sasuke stopped, however, giving her an almost reprimanding look. Before she could protest, her eyes widened as his fingers found her womanhood, teasingly tracing the folds. The dampness on her panties was evidence enough of her desire, but he wasn't quite satisfied and without bothering to wait for her, he thrust an exploratory digit into her warmth, earning a whimper from the medic. She clamped up around his fingers and he did his best not to think about how utterly _wonderful_ that would feel around his _cock_. Instead, he focused on her arousal, her wetness, _her_ pleasure, and experimentally pumped his digit in and out from her folds. Sakura sighed at the sensation, inclining her head back, arms at her sides, gripping the sheets. When his thumb found her guarded bundle of nerves, she convulsed as though shocked, and Sasuke smirked.

The Uchiha had taken many women to his bed, he was no stranger to the art of carnal indulgence, but he had never had quite the same experience that he was having then and there, with this pink-haired, green-eyed ghost from his past. A second finger joined the first and at this Sakura's leg twitched at the welcome intrusion. He worked her, feeling her moistness cover his digits and drip down his palm. Her hands raked across the blankets on the bed, an impatient and insisting "_Sasuke_" emerging from her throat. The hoarseness of her voice, the desperation she laced through his name, urged him to continue.

He removed his hand, situating himself between her thighs. Before she could draw a breath, he penetrated her. "_Sasu-ke!_" It came out broken as he thrust deep into her core.

No resistance met him as he entered, and he belatedly wondered who had stolen her first time. _Stolen? It was never mine to have_, his mind iterated, but as he pulled himself out and slid easily back in, the thought was forgotten.

Fingers gripped his shoulders and Sakura met his Sharingan with such confidence that he couldn't help but feel his desire for her double. She hiked her thighs up against his chest, legs hanging over his shoulders, allowing him deeper access to her body; he immediately obliged.

All the doubts and lies and regrets that might have plagued either person were thrown to the winds as they lay waste to the carefully erected wall between them; perhaps Sasuke hadn't enforced it enough, perhaps he had lazily stacked bricks without mortar, deluding himself to its strength until the chakra-fisted, green-eyed, _medic_ came charging through.

Sharingan eyes took account of every expression the young woman made as he rode her to the crux of her pleasure and he watched, transfixed on the tantalizing '_Oh_' that parted her lips as she reached her peak, and he memorized the way her mouth formed his name as the waves of her orgasm crashed over her. Sasuke hastened his pace, only needing one-two-three thrusts before allowing himself to release the pent up desire she had stirred within him since she first arrived. There was such relief in it, such contentment, as their breaths, ragged and animalistic, calmed. The black and red of his eyes disappeared, and he placed his head between the valley of her breasts, idly noting her heart beat.

"Sasuke," she murmured, a combination of shock and anticipation in her voice. Sakura's hand brushed sweat-matted hair from his forehead, and the sensation was so soothing he closed his eyes.

"Mmm," he muttered intelligibly, trying to sound irate because this foolish, wide-eyed, _annoying_ woman had forced her way back into his life and he was both aggravated and amazed at how easily he let her by and how little he actually minded.

He barely registered her "_Thank you,"_ before falling prey to a chakra induced sleep.

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**author's note:**

_o1. _Finally, amirite? These kids, dancing around each other with all that sexual tension. For those of you who are likely to say that Sakura shouldn't still love Sasuke at all, I beg to differ. It's not that she's obsessed with him, not as though she's chasing after him endlessly. In fact, she tries her damnedest to maintain an air of detachment (despite their exploits). But first loves die hard, and though he tried to kill her _ahem_ if canon!Sakura can forgive it, then I'm going to go ahead and say _seven years_ after the fact, that this Sakura can, too. I don't want it to seem like she always held a torch for him, that's certainly _not_ the case - but the fact remained that she always loved him.

_o2._ Now for _Sasuke's_ reaction. Suffice it to say that, after all these years and after achieving his goal, Sasuke felt as though he had done too much damage to return to Konoha and pick up the pieces of his life that he ruthlessly abandoned there. After all the times he broke Sakura (and Naruto), he didn't think he _deserved _to be happy with them, he didn't deserve to go home. Having all those years to contemplate this, Sasuke is far from the vengeful guy he was when he left. Now here's Sakura, someone he deemed himself unworthy of making amends with, someone whose life he didn't think he could ever be a part of again, telling him she still does love him - perhaps she never stopped. Suddenly everything he carefully told himself, denied himself, is turned on its head.

_o3. _Still not satisfied? Meh, oh well. Sorry ,_, this chapter wrote itself entirely and mini!Sasuke and mini!Sakura were all _this is the way I'd react to this and this is what I'd say and if Suigetsu interrupts again I'm going to keel you_.

_o4. _I don't know how to lemon. /hangshead.

_o5_. Yep, Sakura knocked him out.

_o6_. Plot will pick up in the next chapter, and I do believe this story will be concluding soon. I'm incredibly excited to see myself completing it and have such immense appreciation and love for all of you people, signed reviewers and guests alike, who have encouraged me to continue on :)

Until next time,  
~ Lady Flick

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**edit:** I will be updating my profile on the progress of future chapters and fics! If you're wondering how the next update is coming along, I will have a rough idea posted in my bio. I edit that section nearly every day so it's certainly up to date!


	8. In Retrospect

**author's note: **My updating schedule is bizarre. What, every few days? Haha. Anyways, the story is completely plotted out and the real action is starting! (I mean fighting action, not citrusy action.) You dear, _dear_ readers don't need to worry about this fic going unfinished, there's only two or three, maybe four, chapters left, all of which have already been outlined. Man, I am so ecstatic with how this story is going and how well it's being received :) it's your reviews and wonderful support that has me start writing the next chapter immediately after posting one. Now, bear with me as we go through fight scenes because, quite frankly, I'm awful at them. /headdesk.

**edit: **As usual, my perpetual editing is taking place. I'm not sure if my laptop is being strange, but I uploaded this chapter again. Quite a few times it seems, I kept trying to update it but it wasn't showing my edited document so I deleted it and uploaded the edited version. It may be my internet? I'm not entirely sure. Ugh. Anyways - chapter 8!

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**Operation: Nightingale**

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**viii.**

_In_ _Retrospect_

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Sakura found herself racing through the rain, having stolen Sasuke's cloak and weapons holster. The original plan was to simply send Konoha a messenger hawk but her encounter with the dark haired man drastically changed that. It was obvious that whatever transpired between them, be it that very meeting, or their various encounters previous, _meant_ something, and that terrified her. To partake in pleasure and find herself in the throes of passion was one thing when she was simply Tsukiko – there was no history between her and Sasuke, and though the latter had _felt_ something there, Sakura _knew_ that it wasn't real. It was a game. The moment the mask fell away, the game ended and suddenly everything was much too _real_.

She scoffed at the idea that a genuine connection with Sasuke scared her off. But it did. He had asked her to stay and she was tempted to acquiesce, reason be damned. What kind of woman was she? To be so easily swayed by a handsome face and brooding eyes? _But it was more than that_, her mind whispered, _you know it was so much more than that_.

Immediately after knocking out the Uchiha, she returned to the Messenger Tower and sent her message to Konoha, then confronted a wheedling Suigetsu. He had wanted to tease her about her _romp_ with Sasuke, but when he realized she was dressed to escape, he led her to an underground passage that let out in the forest.

_"Do me a favor and don't die, OK? That ass will never let me live it down,"_ were his parting words.

Sakura wasn't sure what to make of them. All she knew was that she couldn't spend another minute in the Land of Iron, not when Sasuke was there, tempting her to stay. Not when his touches were fleeting and extraordinary.

If he came-to and reported her true identity to Susanoo she had to make sure there was plenty of land separating her from his samurai. She wondered if Lighting-nin _were_ keeping watch, but if they had been, they didn't seem to mind her escape. There was no better time to do so with Susanoo's samurai severely lacking in numbers, having just suffered an ambush. She wasn't shy with her chakra anymore, relishing the familiar feel of it coursing through her body. It was a long way to Konoha, but she needed to increase the distance between her and Sasuke and the desire to kiss him and ravish him and feel his hands on her skin—_No. It's over. That's it._

The thought was both bitter and sobering all at once.

Sakura had allowed herself to drink up the Uchiha's attention, his interest, but that was all over now. They had a fitting goodbye, finally succumbing to what had been long over-due. She could see it in his eyes, feel it in the tangible tension between them – they deserved that comfort, that acceptance from each other. And she realized, when he claimed her attention in the Courier Tower, that she could never _stop_ loving him, desiring him. That didn't mean she would hold out for him, that didn't mean she would abandon her life, her friends, to _stay_ with him. But she would always love him in her own way, and Sakura got the feeling that he would always have some vulnerable spot for her, whether or not he was aware of it.

_He asked me to stay. He wanted to memorize me, us, in the most intimate-_

She told her mind to promptly _shut-the-hell-up_ and raced through the forest, doing her best to maintain focus: return to Konoha. Thoughts of ragged breaths and searing kisses simply had to be forgotten, at least for the time being.

The rain was unforgiving, doing its best to limit her vision, and Sakura's foot, for all it's chakra-enforced traction, slipped off a branch – or perhaps the branch broke – and she hit the next few below before catching herself against the tree. Sakura pushed off from the trunk, charging through the forest. Her boots sloshed through the mud, leaving footprints that were easily erased with the rain. And then a familiar whistling sound drew her attention to a projectile.

The woman lunged to the side, skidding along the soft earth, and watched the blade embed itself into a tree to her right. Eyes scanned the perimeter; was she followed? She couldn't sense anyone's chakra in particular, but—no wait. There it was. A faint glow, so familiar.

Sakura tensed, flexing her fingers in preparation for a battle, and then she recognized her pursuant: "Habitsu," she breathed.

He emerged from the trees, impassive and amused all the same. "Very good, Sakura," he commended, hands in his pockets. His glasses were immune to the torrent; chakra rimmed the frames.

"How did you-"

"The infamous Snail Sannin's former apprentice? How could I not have recognized your distinct chakra when you arrived?"

She had done her best to suppress her chakra flow, did this man really have such impeccable senses? Sakura frowned, watching him, already knowing the ground was far too soft for her to utilize her favorite tactic.

He circled her, ever the elusive, dangerous predator, and went on. "I thought I had told you on the roof that it wasn't quite time to go," Habitsu declared, _tsk_-ing the young medic with a click of his tongue. "I still need you."

"For _what_?" Sakura demanded, fingers itching to draw a weapon.

"That, dear Sakura, is not something you need to concern your pretty little head with just yet."

She registered the faintest sound of a hiss followed by a sharp pain at her ankle; then everything went black.

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When Sasuke awoke, the lethargy that greeted him was numbing and the Uchiha grumbled intelligibly, face buried in his pillow. The scent of _sex _had settled in his room, and he forced a single eye open, seeing disheveled sheets where he expected a naked young woman. Instantly, he pushed himself upright, dark eyes alert as he scanned the immediate vicinity. It took him a moment to regain his bearings; he distinctly remembered relinquishing himself entirely to his primitive, carnal desires. He remembered pink hair, green eyes, heated touches, and absolute _rapture_ as she gasped her climax and uttered his name like a prayer from her lips.

The moment was distinct in his mind's eye, his Sharingan-sharp vision allowing him to keep and hold on that single, remarkable instance. The Uchiha felt heat pool in his groin at the recollection and then squashed it at once. The question remained: where was she?

A quick survey of his room told him two things: 1) His weapons holster was gone, 2) _Sakura_ was gone. _Shit_.

Sasuke stood from his cot, something like dread weighing him down. She was doing something stupid, and he knew it. Quickly tugging on clothes, he left his room, both furious and impressed at the fact that she managed to get the better of him. What was it that she had said? _Thank you._ Dammit if the irony wasn't lost on him. Sasuke wanted _destroy_ something. Had she planned that? Had she, in her girlish, preteen rage, held on to that night he left her behind, waiting for the opportunity to serve him due justice?

Briefly, he contemplated the possibility that she used her feminine wiles to subdue him, but there was such _raw_ intention in her eyes, such sincerity in her words, that Sasuke excused the idea. He felt, deep inside, that what they shared was _real_. At least that was what he told himself to silence the unnerving traitorous whispers in the back of his mind that told him otherwise.

He stalked down the hall with a purpose, positively seething.

"_Hey_, Sasuke. So, how was-"

Sasuke's hand was at the slate-haired man's throat, pinning Suigetsu against the cool stone wall of the corridor. Leaning in, he glared at his subordinate, in no mood to deal with the man's irritating antics. "Not. _Now_," he hissed, making sure to drive the point home that he did _not_ want to be bothered.

After a moment, he released his comrade and Suigetsu rubbed at his neck, looking somewhat irate. "Fine," he said absently as Sasuke turned to leave. "You won't find her, though," the fanged cohort added, absently inspecting the ends of his snow-colored hair.

The Uchiha stiffened. "Why."

"She left," Suigetsu answered, arching a brow at the dark-haired man's back. Slowly, Sasuke turned, fixing his counterpart with a withering glower. Suigetsu responded with a tilted smirk. "You want to know how _I_ know that," he suggested, at which Sasuke slowly, threateningly, nodded. Suigetsu offered a wide, toothy, grin: "I helped her escape."

Sasuke's eyes widened at the revelation and, without bothering to say another word, he took off down the hall, intending to go after her. He _couldn't_ let her leave. He _couldn't_ let her return to Konoha – not yet. Not until he knew how to handle his situation.

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"What do you suggest we do?" Lord Susanoo demanded of his general. A map of Lightning Country was laid before them, miniature flags scattered atop the scroll as they men deliberated plans of action. Susanoo was well-aware of the fact that they had a small window to respond to Lightning's ambush. They would return with troops knowing that the Iron stronghold was recovering, but what Lighting didn't consider was the fact that Mifune had a secret weapon. The likes of which was to be revealed in ten days' time – but they had no other choice. They had to move out.

Mifune studied the map's topography, silent calculations sifting through his mind. The general stroked his beard, face set in a determined scowl. "I believe our best gamble is to send samurai on a reconnaissance mission. We need to have an idea of how Lightning's shinobi are guarding their village. They must be discrete. They must be fast."

Susanoo nodded, poring over the possible paths leading to Lightning's terrain. "We can send your lieutenant, he's proven to be extraordinarily covert-"

"About Himitsu," Mifune interrupted, glancing up from the map. His dark eyes were thoughtful, troubled, as Susanoo met his gaze. "I have reason to believe he may be working with Lightning. They obviously have a man on the inside," the general reasoned, "Himitsu's past - or what he told us of it – leaves much to be desired."

"Why then, did you allow him to enter our ranks? Why did you make him your lieutenant?" Susanoo ordered, frowning at his trusted general.

"I suspected something was off when he arrived, but his skill was impressive, and his intellect unmatched. If there was something dangerous about him, I wanted to keep him underfoot, keep an eye on him."

"What makes you think he's the rat?"

A pause, then, "Kyouta Habitsu – the medic? - mentioned something troublesome the evening of the ambush." Mifune watched as the lord met his gaze. "He said Himitsu was whispering to someone on the rooftops, someone he didn't recognize. You've heard the rumor of the civilian doctor and Himitsu? She encountered his meeting with a Lightning shinobi and he seduced her to distract her from his deception."

Susanoo's hand sent a glass flying off the desk. The sound of shattered glass was followed by silence. "Bring me Himitsu Sasuke."

Mifune nodded. "Of course, Lord Watatsumi."

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When she was a little girl, Sakura often spent her precocious toddler years admiring the sensation of mud after a fresh rainfall. The Land of Fire experienced such showers only during spring-time, and the girl enjoyed the squish of soft earth between her toes; it was cool, refreshing, and the smell after the rain was calming. The sound of rain pattering against the window often lulled her to sleep. That same pitter-patter was all the much older Sakura heard as she was languidly pulled from her slumber. The earlier storm petered out to something softer, much more quietening.

Her body resisted the rise to consciousness, and the medic groaned.

"Awake?"

The voice was cheerful enough, pleasant, and echoed off the walls. It sounded strangely familiar, but for the life of her, Sakura couldn't quite –

"Ah. You are. How are you feeling, Haruno?"

Sakura opened her eyes, blinking away her bleary vision, and scowled at the pleased countenance of Habitsu. "You," she began, but he lifted a finger to shush her. The young woman hissed as a searing pain erupted from her ankle. Her body was immobile, but she could feel the cool mud against her cheek. From what she was able to identify from her position, Sakura surmised that she and the male medic were in a cave who-knew-where.

"My friend is staying near you," her present company said. He was crouched before her, glasses pushed up into his hairline. "He is doing his best to keep you sedated," Habitsu clarified, stretching out a hand. A white-scaled snake slithered through the mud, meeting Habitsu's palm and _hissing_ as though in appreciation. "Yes, great work," the man praised.

Sakura tried to lunge at him, but her body failed. "What are you _doing_? Why am I here?"

He regarded her thoughtfully, sending his amphibian cohort away with a flick of his wrist. "Sakura," Habitsu began, and paused. Somewhere around her legs, Sakura could sense the serpent slithering about, prepared to bite her once she regained control of her limbs. "You didn't mean to play write into my plans," Habitsu continued at last. "You couldn't have known. But if Konoha had minded their own business instead of sending their shinobi where they didn't belong, you wouldn't be in this little predicament, now would you?" The man sighed, straightening up and stretched his legs with a flourish. "But now that you're here, you've proven useful. Obviously Sasuke will come after you – knowing him and his innate repulsion in being dragged to your village he'll do what it takes to keep you here."

"What do you know of me or Sasuke?" Sakura spat, eyes following her captor's movements.

Habitsu smiled. "Oh, everything. I've known you both since you were but genin, afterall."

"Who..._are_ you?"

The man lowered his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. "_You_ know me as Kabuto."

Sakura watched him, the name was familiar, but his face wasn't. Was he maintaining a henge she couldn't sense? Then it hit her: Kyouta Habitsu was nothing more than an _anagram_ for - _"Yakushi Kabuto_. How-"

A chuckle interrupted her rather frazzled train of thought and the man slid his hands into his pockets, observing his captive with vexing nonchalance. "Sakura. I'm a master in the art of DNA manipulation and absorption," he offered freely, as if revealing himself to her would come with little consequence. "My chakra is completely altered. If it wasn't, I'm certain you would have recognized me instantly. As I've noted before – your chakra control is excellent," he hummed in amusement, "just nothing compared to mine. Now if you'll excuse me..."

"Wait," she gritted out, just barely lifting her cheek off the ground when fangs penetrated her flesh once again, drawing a growl from her throat. "What do you intend to do with me?"

Kabuto quirked a single brow. "Well, if you _must_ know, you're bait to get that annoying Uchiha away from the manor."

"What do you want with Sasuke?"

"Isn't it obvious?" The bespectacled man grinned. "I want his DNA. I want his power."

"He'll never come here," Sakura said fiercely at his retreating back.

"Sakura," her assailant reasoned, glancing over his shoulder at the medic's limp form, "he knows you ran away and he'll follow you. He'll find you. And General Mifune will find _him. _And when he's in a weakened enough state, I'll take what I want."

"I won't let you!" Her vehement words were only met with laughter.

"Like you have a choice," Kabuto declared, pulling his hood over his head as he stepped out into the rain.

Beside her, Sakura felt the snake's cool, scaly skin brush against her back.

Kabuto would regret this; he had _greatly_ underestimated her prowess.

When Sakura was certain that he was long gone, she allowed her eyes to shut. The sound of a long, serpentine muscle winding through the mud eventually faded to the back of her mind, and she inhaled the aroma of fresh rain, detecting the faint metallic scent of blood.

Idly, Kabuto's _pet_ took upon the role of sentinel, and Sakura did her best to remain unmoving. Could it sense her chakra? If it did, it didn't react.

Pinpointing her focus on her chakra, the medic surveyed her punctured calf, studying the wound and feeling thick obtrusive poison near the open wounds, pumping through her bloodstream. Sakura winced at the sheer amount injected into her and steeled herself against what she knew would be a long and arduous process.

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For all his years of being away from any semblance of his former life, Sasuke could count on one hand the times he had chased after a woman. That being a resounding _one_. Two if you counted him ordering a certain redhead to join his team. Uchiha Sasuke didn't happen to count said exceptional tracker, and so the one woman he ever gave chase to was the rose-haired, wide-eyed Haruno Sakura. The absurdity wasn't lost on him - in fact, if he wasn't so damn _furious_ with her, he might have laughed.

Through his entire time at the Academy, and many notable years afterwards, Sakura was the one who sought him; Sakura _pursued_ him. Now _he_ was after _her_. He smirked inwardly at Fate and how those things worked. Perhaps those in the heavens were playing a cruel joke at his expense.

The rain let up over the course of his race through the ice-laden roads towards the forest that merged in its deepest center with the border of Wind Country. He wondered how long of a head start the woman had, but squashed the thought, the uncertainty, in his mind. He couldn't allow himself to devolve to worrying – Uchiha Sasuke _never_ worried.

Yet there he was, heart racing, knowing that he would have no trouble hunting down that annoying, stubborn medic. Did he believe enough in his skills to capture her? No, did he have such little regard for _her_ skills was the better question.

A lifetime ago – because the time prior to her stint in Iron felt like an entirely different lifetime – he would have scoffed at the mere idea that he might not catch a fleeing Sakura (and the fact that Sakura might be _running_ from him was comical in its own right). This new, older, Sakura, however, only managed to shock him at every turn. She exuded confidence, strength, _sensuality; _Sasuke felt his chest tighten at the thought. She was remarkable in every way.

_You're hunting her down to stop her from ruining your plot to overthrow Iron_, he assured himself, but a deeper voice in the back of his head that couldn't seem to shut the hell up laughed. _You're hunting her down because you-_ Sasuke wouldn't let himself finish that thought. It wasn't something he should complete.

_Scaredy-cat,_ a decisively _Naruto_ voice taunted.

Sasuke frowned at the traitorous whispers in his head and pushed on, breaking into the first line of trees and finding solace from the rain under the dripping canopy.

He could sense Sakura's chakra and followed it like a hound; her scent, her trace, was a searing, bright imprint in his senses. There was no way he could miss it. He had noticed it in his room, on his body. He noticed it in the barracks, noticed it even through the rain as if his nose was physically built for the purpose of tracking down the medic's _incredible_ scent. It wasn't, of course, but that hardly mattered.

Something changed in the atmosphere and the Uchiha's eyes averted to his left. His hands formed quick seals, disappearing just as kunai flew through his replacement log. He was crouched in a tree, dark eyes scanned the vicinity. He sensed the man's immediate presence and abandoned his perch, avoiding Mifune's blade with ease. The white-haired general landed on the forest floor, vigilant eyes glaring at his lieutenant.

"Himitsu Sasuke. You are ordered to return to Lord Watatsumi."

Sasuke eyed the older samurai with disinterest. "Tell Susanoo I shall return to the manor later," he responded coolly.

Mifune, hand at his weapon, slid his feet into a fighting stance. The rain pattered off his armor. "You are no longer a samurai of his army. You are marked as a traitor. You will be imprisoned."

"What's the meaning of this?" The Uchiha scowled, reaching behind him to grasp Kusanagi's hilt. It was familiar; his fingers fit perfectly against the handle, as though wrought into the grip.

"We know you conspired with Lightning to plan the ambush," the general accused. "You must be punished," and he lunged.

Sasuke dodged, his countenance disappearing in a flash and reappearing behind Mifune within a single breath. The older man anticipated this of his lieutenant and swiveled around at once, katana halting Kusanagi's strike. Metal hit metal, and Kusanagi would have likely sliced right through the carefully forged samurai blade had Mifune not utilized his chakra to reinforce the point of contact. He was well aware of his subordinate's straight-edged weapon's strengths: slicing through various materials being one of them.

"You're wasting my time," Sasuke growled, activating his Sharingan to make quick work of his opponent.

Mifune disengaged at once, grasping his katana with two hands. "So you're the Uchiha child who disappeared after the war," he stated.

Sasuke only arched a brow in acknowledgement. "You're the general about to be bested by his own lieutenant," he answered, disappearing before the samurai's eyes and reappearing above him dropping down, chokutou slicing through the air.

Mifune easily avoided the aerial attack and moved in as the Uchiha landed in an explosion of leaves. When the katana sliced through it, he met no resistance and instantly dropped to the ground, narrowly evading Sasuke's next swing from behind. Mifune pushed off the soft earth, blade drawn. "You have the Sharingan and yet you can't catch an old man."

If the samurai was susceptible to genjutsu, Sasuke would have made use of that skill and been done with the encounter. However, he was well acquainted with Mifune's strengths, and the Sharingan would not aid him in that respect. Mifune watched him, eyes narrowed, expectant.

Sasuke knew the general was biding his time – did he have samurai coming to back him up? He was aware of the man's tactics; Mifune was alarmingly agile for his age, and thus far he had used little of his skill in their confrontation. It was insulting.

"Perhaps I have a soft spot for my elders," the Uchiha answered.

"Highly unlikely, looking at how you treated your older brother."

Sasuke's grip tightened on the Kusanagi and before he could even take a step, Mifune had already slid forward, wielding his sword with minimal effort and maximum grace. Had it not been for the Sharingan, Sasuke would have had at least five thin red lines marring his skin. He noted every tic and shift in muscle on the samurai general, avoiding his successive blows. When the barrage stopped, Mifune was yards away, blade sheathed. _That_ was the Mifune Sasuke knew. Outstanding proficiency in the art of _Iai_. When it pertained to sword-play, the general was unmatched. But Sasuke had the help of his doujutsu – speed was nothing compared to Sharingan-eyes.

"What's the matter, Uchiha Sasuke?" Mifune called, "Reluctant to strike your superior?"

The dark haired man tensed in frustration. He flexed his toes within the confines of his boots, as if grasping at the control of the soles of his shoes for better agility, and thrust forward. He wouldn't allow Mifune a moment's peace to sheath his weapon, he wouldn't allow Mifune a moment's breath, a moment's hesitation. Sasuke, for all his impeccable restraint and impassivity in life following his brother's demise, charged at the samurai.

Mifune managed only to block, the clang of metal on metal reverberating throughout the forest, an ominous harbinger of what was to come. Lightning split the sky above them despite the gray overture of the afternoon. Mifune's katana sparked with his chakra; the light cast dark shadows across his aged features.

Sasuke feinted to his right and vanished the moment his foot met earth, only to reappear instantly to the left, managing to slide his sword through the general's non-dominant forearm.

To his credit, Mifune only hissed in reaction but managed to distance himself from the Uchiha. Blood stained his shirt, but the samurai refused to assay the damage. Instead, he swung his blade in an intricate art, channeling his chakra into its motion, and swung it down with such force, the air pressure shot across the leaves littering the earth. Chakra, rather than remaining attached to the sword, emerged, as if a projectile, and Sasuke spun out of its trajectory.

Unfortunately for him, Mifune predicted this and had already sent another chakra blade in his direction, this time successfully knocked the Uchiha back onto the mud. The chakra burned through his tunic, filling his senses with the scent of singed flesh. He flickered out of view as Mifune sprung towards him, and re-emerged in a tree, a safe distance from the katana.

Mifune was down below, as alert as a general should be. Sasuke regarded him with irritation – he had never particularly _liked_ Mifune, but the man was a skilled samurai. It was a shame that he was so hell-bent on igniting a Shinobi War.

And then a chakra blade crackled through the air, slicing cleanly through the branch on which Sasuke was perched. He leapt out just in time to avoid the attack, and rolled onto the ground to recover from the fall. He looked up to see Mifune standing before him, hand resting on the hilt of his sheathed katana.

Sasuke stood to move but found that his right arm – the arm singed with chakra – was unresponsive. His right hand dropped the sword, but he caught it in his left without missing a beat.  
_  
_Mifune grinned. "The poison coating my katana also gets infused with the chakra. It will slowly paralyze your body. Do you feel it, Uchiha? Do you feel the paralysis moving through your blood stream as dread fills your heart?"

"Tch," Sasuke responded, inclining his head to the side, "you talk too much." He rushed forward, ensconcing his Kusanagi with the static charge of his chidori and lit Mifune's face in blue. The general moved away before he could be run through, however, vaulting himself over Sasuke's shoulders. The Uchiha spun, chidori-crackling blade drawn menacingly, and then he felt a tingling numbness extend through his chest. His eyes widened at the sensation of his heart literally constricting and his blood ran cold.

"Feel it yet?" Mifune's voice called. "The poison," he elaborated, "working its way to your _heart_."

Sasuke dropped his blade, free hand clutched his chest as he fell onto his knees. _No, no, no_.

Mifune's footsteps squished into the mud beneath them as he approached, measured and deliberate. Sasuke could feel the pressure in his chest, as if an advil was pressing down, unrelenting. The familiar_ chk_ of Mifune's sword clicking free from its scabbard was the most prominent sound Sasuke heard, even through the thunder, even through the drumming rain.

The Uchiha watched as Mifune neared. "Time to absolve you of your sins," he declared.

Sasuke refused to look away and steeled himself for what was to come. Then a pink and green blur replaced Mifune's form and the samurai went flying into the trees.

"_Sasuke._"

He couldn't believe it. There she was, pastel hair, chakra-fist, and all.

"Sakura," was all the man managed to say because she had promptly followed after Mifune to make certain he was down. Her chakra pulsated through the air and he wondered at the strength, at the force, behind her punches. When she was convinced that Mifune was subdued – _one_ hit, it took _one hit_, granted the samurai was quite distracted and she was simply _lucky_ in that respect – she returned and Sasuke watched her move through the rain, in awe of her power.

He had encountered it many times before, but somehow it was different that time. Perhaps because he watched her back disappear into the forest to protect _him_. Perhaps because as she came to kneel before him, he felt _protected_. By _Sakura_. It was strange, but not unwelcome, and as she urged him to recline on the soft earth and her professional medic hands tore his shirt apart, he briefly entertained the thought of what heaven might feel like. He closed his eyes.

"Sasuke."

Couldn't she let him just close his eyes for a second?

"_Sasuke_." More sternly that time.

The Uchiha scowled, peering at her. "Hn," he grunted, cringing at the exhale, finding it more and more difficult to breathe.

Sakura pressed her palms against the defined pectorals of his torso, brows furrowed in concentration. The glow from her chakra lit up her eyes and Sasuke felt her work her magic, the tension abating in his rib-cage. "Habitsu, the medic-nin? He's actually Kabuto. You know, _Kabuto_." The young woman revealed, not wasting time to jump into the insanity of their situation. "He wants your body," she went on. "And I'm going to have to extract this poison from you."

What those two facts had to do with the other, Sasuke had no time to comprehend, as suddenly the medic propped herself onto his hips, knees pinning his arms down at his sides. She had thighs of _steel_ and he was about to say as much when a searing hot pain erupted from his chest. When he tried to squirm, Sakura's restraint held him still.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, eyes concentrated on the dark drops of poison seeping through his skin and into the rain water collecting on his chest. Sakura flicked it aside and continued the process, moving across the planes of his torso and then focusing on his injured arm.

The sensation was grueling and Sasuke exhibited a colorful vocabulary that Sakura ignored.

At last, the kunoichi sighed, resting her hands on the soft ground, spent from her efforts. She closed her eyes, suppressing _something_, and Sasuke was once again amazed at her skill, at her ability, at her unconditional desire to protect.

"Sakura," he said, voice low, strained, but every bit as powerful as if he was in full health.

She opened her eyes and ran her mud-covered fingers through his bangs, pushing them away from his face. Sasuke wondered if the water in her eyes was from the rain. "Sasuke," the woman whispered, the name so sweet, so endearing, that the Uchiha thought himself unworthy of it. And then she kissed him, and he was positive that he didn't deserve _that_ but he couldn't bring himself about to care much. Not when her hands tangled into his hair, not when her hips were pressing into his form.

Sakura moved away and his protest died on his tongue when he saw the look of concern in her eyes. She was all business, then, looking utterly regal even straddled atop him with her rain-drenched locks plastered on her face. "Susanoo is plotting to gain control of Lightning Country and then moving to attack Wind."

Sasuke eased his head back onto the mud. "I know."

"I can't stay here," she said pointedly, studying his reaction.

He was well-aware of the fact that she still had him pinned down. She knew that he would be able to overpower her if she tried to escape. Sasuke shifted and Sakura accommodated his movement, granting him freedom of his arms. "I know," was his quiet reply. Sakura's expressive brows rose, but she kept her surprise to herself. Sasuke's hands found her knees and they slid up along the lateral part of her thighs; he noted the way her eyes closed at the touch. "You have to leave," he said. A statement. She killed the general, afterall.

The young woman who had come un-apologetically charging through the wall he had built around himself gave him a look that was so filled with unsaid promises, pleas, questions. "You could come with me."

The suggestion startled him.

"You know I can't," Sasuke answered, though his mind entertained the suggestion.

"Why?" Sakura demanded, all tenacious demeanor and inexorable will, just the way he preferred her to be. "What do you have here? You want to overthrow his army, just come fight with ours."

The Uchiha abolished the elation quickly rising within him at her eagerness, at how _ineffable_ the prospect of returning with her was. "I...I can't."

She frowned then, rain drops trailing sinuous rivulets down her face, curving around the crease in her brow, the squint of her eyes. "It's not just about stopping Susanoo, is it? This is about power," the medic ventured. "You want Iron Country. You are _just_ as bad as the other power-hungry-"

Her hands moved away from his hair to punch him in the chest but he caught her wrists.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he whispered. Sasuke was close enough to watch the droplets of rain fall from her eyelashes. "I can't go back. There's nothing for me there. The only possible thing that might be there for me," his grip tightened on her wrists, the roughness of his callouses obscured by the slickness of the rain, "is right in front of me."

"Sasuke-"

He sat up then, pulling her arms against his chest. "You could stay here," Sasuke prompted, resting his forehead against hers. He decided he quite loved the privacy it allotted them, the perspective it offered him of her eyes. "Help me overthrow him. We could take Iron Country and make it right."

Sakura hesitated at his words, cursing the missed opportunities of their lives; why could timing never work out in their favor? "I can't," she answered, as resolute as ever despite the butterflies claiming their home in her stomach. "I _have_ to leave. I have to," she iterated, as if convincing herself of the fact. And then her voice dropped, soft and quiet, lacking the strength she had moment before. "But first, there's one thing...I'd like you to do for me."

_Anything_, Sasuke's mind enthused.

"Say my name."

The request was so ridiculous, so simple, that Sasuke almost laughed. He released her wrists to grasp her upper arms, looking right into her eyes, and injected all his suppressed thoughts, all his lewd day-dreams, all his uncertainty and guilt and the fact that he just didn't give a damn about anything in the world except her, into her name. "Sakura," it dripped like honey from his lips. "Sakura, Sakura, _Saku-_"

She cut him off, swallowing the syllables from his lips.

His arms ensnared her waist, trailing fingers up along her spine. Her hands moved roughly across his back, into his hair. It lasted only a moment – a single moment of fireworks exploding in the backs of their minds - before she extricated herself from his warmth, his acceptance. As they stood, they regarded each other with something so much more than just respect and regret, something Sasuke couldn't quite place, and then the medic, the woman with those dazzling eyes and hair as soft as flower petals, disappeared into the trees.

Only after she was gone did Sasuke realize the look they shared was one of affection.

.

.

* * *

**author's note: **

_o1._ It was Kabuto! I had one reviewer who suspected him as being the medic Habitsu in disguise. Bravo!

_o2. _Why would Suigetsu help Sakura? Because he likes her? Because he's not actually a bad guy? Because he knows things aren't going well in Iron, and her leaving will bring Konoha reinforcements to take down Iron? I'm not sure, and when I tried to explore the part of my brain that made Suigetsu act that way, mini!Suigetsu promptly told me to mind-my-own-damn-business and that he does as he pleases. /cough

_o3_. Sakura is a smart cookie, I'm sure she would have solved the anagram of Kyouta Habitsu immediately.

_o4_. I didn't show the scene where Sakura took out her own poison and killed the snake. I suppose I could have, but I feel like it left things more suspenseful for Sasuke's fight.

_o5_. Speaking of Sasuke's fight, yes, Sakura took down Mifune with a single punch. She's super strong and I feel like sometimes people underestimate that, but I believe in the manga she's able to subdue some incredibly powerful opponents with only one hit. It helped that Mifune was distracted.

_o6_. Also, I'll reiterate this: action is _so_ not my forte. This does not bode well for the next chapter, in which much action takes place D:

_o7_. But we'll be seeing some of our favorite Konoha Shinobi in the next update (which will likely be by friday 4/24)! Until then, I'd love to hear your thoughts in the form of a review! /hinthint

~ Lady Flick


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